16 June 2010
I guarded my heart in the well of my chest, encased in the safety of my rib cage. For years I pushed away the silly notions of my emotional dependancy, thinking love in youth was just a reckless cause enough to destroy all sensibility and good judgement. One day, I left my heart resting on a table and looked away. When I looked back it was stolen and rested in the hands of a stranger. Now I wish could retrieve my heart back because I am emotionally bound to the person who holds it. And, my God, I wish it weren’t so. I am not one to be held in captivity.