The World of Lonely Hearts

For once, I didn’t miss someone who I used to think of every day. Perhaps it was because I was the one in control. I had to break a heart in order to protect my own. Too many times had I given it away to those who mishandled it and allowed it to fall to the floor without batting an eyelash.

I allowed you to touch my heart and admire the silver bucket in which I kept it. I even placed it in your hands – as soon as you started to fumble, I stole my heart back and ran with it.

In my commotion, I had jostled your heart and knocked it over onto the floor. I heard the crash and I glanced back. You knelt on the ground and pleaded with me through a nervous smile.

I turned my back on you. There was a shameful part of me that took pride in this moment. Little did I realize that I was the epitome of all that I feared from those who had mishandled my heart before, but I realized it a little. I just didn’t want to care. I could only care about myself – my hands were full.

I felt empowered and in control.

In moments like these, my Creator has always had a funny way of making things spiral out of my control, to test my heart.

The Test

In my cocky pride, I felt that I had nothing to lose. In my excessive confidence, I saw this as the perfect opportunity to give my heart to someone I had always been too scared to before, because he was the Prince.

I approached him and offered my heart. He took a step back and politely rejected it. I was content; I gave it a shot and there were no hard feelings…

…until others came rushing to his side, offering their hearts in bright, sparkly packages. Then my best friend happened to walk by, her heart wrapped in gold, which caught his eye the most.

The prince approached her, gazing sweetly into her eyes, his gentle hands untying the ribbons around her heart. It was as though he was taking scissors to mine.

Blind fury seared through me. I cast my heart aside and marched to my best friend, siezing her wrist and pulling her away. How dare she wrap her heart in gold when she knew I wanted the prince to notice my silver???

Once we had gotten far enough, I abandoned her and returned to where I had left the Prince…but he was nowhere to be found.

I found myself alone.

And it was dark.

Very, very dark.

The only light was the fire I had set to my own heart. The flames swallowed it up, roaring furociously, and I burned with anxiety.

What…happened? What had I done? Why? That wasn’t love. That was stupid. Had I lost my only two friends? Would anything ever be the same? Was I toxic?

I was blinded by my own desire for the prince – no, for control – that I failed to notice how I had knocked my best friend’s heart to the floor. It had tumbled out of the packaging, yet it did not break, for it was made of gold. A sickness came over me at the sight of her heart. My best friend only had the purest love for the prince; platonic, but pure. I was the one who had misconstrued her actions.

Tears welled in my eyes and fell into the fire surrounding my heart, quenching the flames. What was left was a puddle of molten steel. I did what I could to gather it in the bucket, scorching my hands – but I didn’t care, as long as I could carry it and the heart my best friend had left behind.

I journeyed into the darkness and found her. She sat with her arms folded, unsure of what to feel without her heart in the right place. I handed it to her, and I began to pour out my heart before her. I apologized for everything, leaving no detail unmentioned or excused. I just wanted her back, even if I was a gooey mess.

She examined her heart. There were dents, it was tarnished, all because of my selfish behavior. She shot me a cold glare…rightfully so. Her grudge was great, and rightfully so.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and grabbed my hand, guiding me along. Her stride was determined and sure towards her destination – a future with me in it.

Together, we consulted with the prince. We shook on our friendship and agreed to keep moving forward – nowhere in particular, the greatest adventure.

The Greatest Adventure

Along my adventure, I crossed paths with you time and time again. Each time, you offered your heart to me. Each time, I took a step back – both of our hearts were still in disrepair, due to my actions alone. Even if I had the best of intentions, they were solely focused on my best interest. No, I wasn’t ready to accept the broken pieces of your heart, not when mine was still scalding to the touch and without solid structure, somewhere abandoned in the darkness.

My Creator offered a proposition: pour your heart out unto his, and see what happens.

Cautiously, I searched for my heart. Each step that I took felt as though I was testing for stepping stones across a tumultuous river. My movements were unsure but calculating. Soon enough, I found my bucket from before; glowing from within it was the molten mass that was my heart. My Creator had prepared my heart for me while I had been gone.

The next time you approached me, I felt the tides of the river crashing at my ankles. Yet, my feet were on solid rock. There was no reason to be cautious, no reason to feel unsure. You extended your arms, offering the pieces of your heart again. I began to pour.

The glowing amber steel crept through the cracks between each piece, gradually filling the empty spaces until every piece was sealed together. Then, quietly, we waited together for it all to cool.

The finished product was an even grander heart than either one ever had been. The surface was a mosaic; your heart and mine melding together as one.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hold. Perhaps it would shatter again. Perhaps it would erode over time.

But for now, all we can do is hold hands and admire the masterpiece that we have created, a masterpiece of patience and second chances.

Julie

A 20 year old college student who works at an epic escape room. I'm writing about my encounters with love and lack thereof, so that my readers can gain hope from my experiences and realize that they are never alone. Sometimes it's okay to walk away from the seemingly best love story ever in order to write your own chapter.

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1 thought on “The World of Lonely Hearts”

  1. This was a beautiful way to tell your story. The poetic language was an excellent touch. I would love to see more of your writing and personal experiences.

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