It fell from a ten story building and shattered into a thousand little pieces that were sharp enough to pierce your soul. I used to find the sound of hearts breaking exciting, as if it was sort of game where the prize was the satisfaction that you weren't the one that was hurt. It was as if you were thrown into a ring and forced to fight it out; if your heart was intact by round two you were declared the winner. The victory was mine. I wanted to collect the tiny bits and pieces, but I was no longer the rightful owner. I ceded my rights the moment I entered the ring.

But this method was not exactly reliable. It was all fun and games until I found a heart that a huge iron gate around it. I wanted it, I craved it. I was a curious child looking around, but the gate was too thick. I lacked the strength to knock it down.

My heart was on the line, but you never let me in. So I picked up all of the pieces and glued the jagged edges together like an enigma waiting to be solved. But some pieces were missing. I don't think you can completely get over loving someone. You give them a piece of your heart, and no matter the size they will always have a part of you.