You finally convinced me to give you my heart. Ambivalently I handed it over. Having been hurt before, I never thought I would give someone the opportunity to influence my emotions, curb my desires and fuel my passions. I never thought I would hand over the keys to the only place I store precious memories, heartbreaking experiences and bitter disappointments. Giving you my heart meant that I would become vulnerable. It meant that you can do with me as you please. I realize that once in life someone will hurt us. I knew what I was getting into when I gave you my heart. What you did was take it and ripped it to pieces, not caring where anything fell, leaving me to pick it up piece by piece. Too hurt to be angry and too broken to care. Love has transformed itself from a state of euphoria to devastation. Was this love that walked up to me, asked for my heart, vowing that if I handed it over it would be kept safely? The label “handle with care” won’t be ignored and “fragile” won’t be overlooked. Was this love that made me smile every time you walked into a room or sent me a text, xoxo? Was this love that deceived me into believing that if I left my feet, I would float forever? Love made me give you my heart, love made me trust you with it and now love has left me, love has been cut off from a heart that beats to it. Yet I am compelled to take this heart with me everywhere I go, to feel every pain exerted from a heart soaked with tears. It has to come with me, I cannot leave it at home. There’s been times I’ve tried to rip it out, yearning for just a day or an hour without feeling the brokenness that exists, looking for a moment’s relief. Though I searched and searched, I found none! So I promised myself to never give my heart to another. I made a vow to put it far away out of sight. It’s no longer on the shelf, it’s no longer for sale. I don’t exhibit it, because I don’t want to give it. I’ve changed the locks and you no longer have the keys. I’ve taken my heart and this time I can’t just fix it and wait for the next available person, no this time I must take drastic measures. I don’t need my heart, I don’t need the pain, I don’t need the hurt. This time I’ll freeze it, nothing gets in and nothing gets out. Though I tried this for a while, the advantage was that I wouldn’t feel hurt anymore but the disadvantage was that I wouldn’t feel love anymore either. It’s not that I mind loving, in the back of my head all along I knew if love wasn’t cared for and if the upkeep was ignored, it would spoil and the very thing that should make me happy, made me hurt. Physical pain doesn’t hurt as much as a broken heart but my desire to love was greater than my pain. I decided to plant my own garden and instead of looking for someone to water it, I’d water it myself. I had to love again, but didn’t know where to start, so I took something as complicated as love and made it simple. I started by loving myself. I started telling myself how much I meant to myself, how special I was and how unique I had become. The more I loved me the more that frozen heart of mine drip by drip, started to defrost. The more I encouraged me, the more it started beating again. Love was springing from deep within me, love reintroduced itself to me, love had become medicine to my soul. How can I run from love when love seeks me and finds me? How can I run from love when God is love? So I stopped running and turned around and faced love with a heart still half frozen. Love knows I can’t let it in, not just yet, I’m not fully there yet, but if it continues to breathe on me and don’t give up on me, little by little that heart will defrost and love will be welcomed again like it never fooled me the first time.