Talk Thursday: Paper Thin Heart

When I was young and stupid all I wanted to do was give my heart to someone who would treat it with unending passion. So I gave my heart away, far too young. To someone who was nowhere ready for the task at hand, the heavy load that is the heart of a young girl ready to love.

So I cried, I yearned, and mourned for what would never be. The unrequited love of my paper thin heart.

Years and tears and self torture later I found a man of deep hued eyes and heavy hands. In no time at all he took my heart, stomped and tromped, and wore me down until I fled the very town and place he was in.

And I cried, stronger for the experience. And much wiser.

I waited, not so long as maybe I ought and gave away my heart again. A little thicker with a calloused skin, preparing for his hate. The years passed inside our home, from where he'd longer gone, roaming in the forest lands. Away from me and my love. Until the day he said, “Enough, I was wrong. For you I have never loved.”

Oh, I cried. And wept some more, until he said, “I think I made a mistake.”

And then I laughed a bitter pill, “Oh, yes you did. Live with it.”

We didn't have any make up sex. We didn't cuddle in the night. I got over the loss, the misplaced trust and started over again.

On new ground, ground I'd laid myself, years later when I wasn't looking love came in. Nested, and grew, nourishing not one, but two calloused hearts. Rubbing off the layered scabs and protective crust to reveal again a paper thin heart ready to receive the love it gives.
Sith,
Cele

Talk Thursday: Paper Thin Heart
When I was young and stupid all I wanted to do was give my heart to someone who would treat it with unending passion. So I gave my heart away, far too young. To someone who was nowhere ready for the task at hand, the heavy load that is the heart of a young girl ready to love.
So I cried, I yearned, and mourned for what would never be. The unrequited love of my paper thin heart.
Years and tears and self torture later I found a man of deep hued eyes and heavy hands. In no time at all he took my heart, stomped and tromped, and wore me down until I fled the very town and place he was in.
And I cried, stronger for the experience. And much wiser.
I waited, not so long as maybe I ought and gave away my heart again. A little thicker with a calloused skin, preparing for his hate. The years passed inside our home, from where he'd longer gone, roaming in the forest lands. Away from me and my love. Until the day he said, “Enough, I was wrong. For you I have never loved.”
Oh, I cried. And wept some more, until he said, “I think I made a mistake.”
And then I laughed a bitter pill, “Oh, yes you did. Live with it.”
We didn't have any make up sex. We didn't cuddle in the night. I got over the loss, the misplaced trust and started over again.
On new ground, ground I'd laid myself, years later when I wasn't looking love came in. Nested, and grew, nourishing not one, but two calloused hearts. Rubbing off the layered scabs and protective crust to reveal again a paper thin heart ready to receive the love it gives.
Sith,
Cele