It is a hard thing to give your heart away. It is hard to get on a plane and leave it there. Walk away without any fear. It is hard to take a leap of faith. To believe in timing, in hope, in trust. It is difficult. Leaving your heart with someone else is one of the more difficult things to do, if not the most difficult thing to do. It's a decision in trust, in fear, in love. It's a decision one should not simply make.
However with all these months, this whole past year, why did you make it so easy? How is it possible to feel such fear combined with peace all in one moment?
You give up the right to protect it, to cherish it. You give up control of where it is kept, how it is treated, and if it will be broken. You relinquish almost everything, except the claim that it's ultimately yours and that it will always be returned. Whether you take it back or it is given back broken, chipped, or bruised. It's hard to leave it all out there. To leave it and walk away, hoping- praying- that everything will be okay.
But for some weird reason, when I looked before I jumped, I saw you there. With open arms. And I jumped. Easily.
I don't know where this will go, or even how we got here. But regardless, I'm glad we're here. As much as I'm scared of having my heart returned broken, it's not enough to keep me from handing it over. The risk is worth the reward. And so here I am.
Hopefully caught- in loving arms. While leaving my heart in your hands. My tiny heart, shattered and torn and taped back together. And here, a couple hundred miles away, I feel your warmth. I feel your arms. I feel your heart beating. Beating with mine.
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