I always imagined that my heart was made of glass. I may not like my brain very much but i do like my heart and i always want to share it with people. Ive shared my heart with 3 people and theyve all broken it in different ways. When i describe them its not to say i did nothing wrong its just a way to reflect on how i felt in the relationship.

The first person i gave my heart to was not a good one. His heart was already so broken from the people who were supposed to love and take care of him that he didnt know how to live with an unbroken heart. So he would break mine. Sometimes it was small, a scratch, maybe he chipped a little away. Other times they were violent. Thrown at the wall, smashed with a hammer. But every time he helped me fix it. He'd bring stronger fixing materials to show me how committed he was to fixing what he broke. Eventually i was so scared of that broken heart that the last time it broke, i let him fix it and then left. He took a small piece of my broken heart with him.

Then came him. I knew that my heart was going to break the moment that it started to beat for him. Another broken man with a skewed outlook on life. On me. When i gave this man my heart i imagine him holding it disgusted with one hand, holding it at an arms length. He looks me dead in the eyes, an uncaring, slightly bored expression as he slowly turns his hand over to wait until the last second to drop it on the floor. I watch it shatter as he turns his back. My heart may have been through more with the first person, but this one well and truly broke not only my heart, but my soul and my essence as a human being too. Due to the other person fixing my broken heart with me, i didnt know how to do it on my own. I picture myself desperately picking up the tiny broken shards of my glass heart, furiously trying to show him that its broken and that im fixing it myself while he still has his back to me. Eventually, i find the biggest piece of my shattered heart, and slip it in his pocket for safe keeping.

I figure out how to fix my heart all by myself. And then I met him. He wasnt like the other two people. He wasnt broken and that somehow scared me more. I was so terrified of just showing him my shattered heart, clumsily glued back together, foggy from the breakages, no longer clear and pure. I was worried it would frighten him away from me. He did something the other two did not. He gave me his heart first. He kept his in a thick metal box with a lock on it. But he gave me the key. When i unlocked it, i could see his heart. Chipped and scratched, but whole and clear. When i showed him my heart, ashamed of the way it looks, he gently asked if he could hold it. When i did reluctantly, he was so kind and gentle with it. He ran his fingers over the cracks, kissed the chips and told me it was beautiful. He held me and my heart close for as long as we could. Until we had to move away from each other. The hardest lesson i had to learn is i can be selfish with my own heart, i cant be selfish with other peoples hearts. His heart was too good for me to keep all to myself, especially when i couldnt give him the intimate love that i wanted to while he lived two hours away. So i gave it back. And he gave me mine back. And that was it, when he carefully placed my heart back in my hands, i see him looking back at me and my heart as he walks away, making sure that we are okay. Damn him and his beautiful heart i think, as my heart crumbles with my own hands this time as i watch him start his new life. There wasnt even time to give him a piece.

I never tried to fix it after this one, i accepted that i was a broken heart and that was all. And then i met you. You who saw it fully broken and in pieces and held me tight. You who bought me flowers when i was sick, who tucked me back in bed when you left, who made sure i ate properly, who massaged my aching body. You who i feel guilty for as my heart still yearns for number three. Im sorry if my heart is never yours. I want my heart to be yours so badly. Youve taken care of me when i was low and that should be what i want. I am so so grateful for it all but my heart is tired and broken. Yours is broken too i can see it, you just want to be loved. Your heart just wants to take care of someone who takes care of you just the same. I promise my heart is doing her best.

I always end up loving the wrong people way too easily