He stole my heart and kept in a jar beside his bed to poke at when he got bored.
The hole where his should have gone remained empty. I gave him my everything, but he still held onto his.
Mother warned me about falling for the wrong man. That I would be hurt in more ways than one.
Your heart is supposed to belong to your forever, not someone who won't appreciate it.
Instead of dwelling on my drowning love, I persied my passions of floristry. It was the way to win over someone's love after all.
Flowers woven into hearts and teddy bears caught the eye of laced lovers outside our home.
I saw how much it made thier hearts glow for each other when my flowers were given as a declaration of love.
It made me melt seeing strangers so happy. I held hopes it would help win the affection of my partner to finally receive his love.
A heart, twined of the best red roses and vibrant wildflowers was presented to him. My fingers were torn from the art, but it only served as a reminder of my dedication.
Without looking at it, he grunted an acknowledgement, and it went on the kitchen bench.
Day by day the flowers died as they were shuffled around. Closer and closer they slipped to the bin before they were dropped in.
There were more ways to win the heart of a man.
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Rich chocolate swirled in the kitchen as its silkiness bobbed in the bowl resting above a boiling pot of water.
A beautiful heart shaped mould was ready to be lined with the sweetness. It had smooth panes over its geometric shape that reminded me of mirrors as I poured and dripped out the excess.
More lavish sweets and flowers were carefully placed inside, one by one. The bandaged cuts from the roses picked thier way to create beauty that was concealed with the other half of the heart I sealed shut.
With a snort and a snuffle, the craftsmanship was brushed off. The sweet chocolate wasn't sweet enough, and the treats inside only made a mess that was swept up.
The chocolate went into the fridge until the days made it weep from the coldness.
I broke it, piece by piece, to remelt it and create smaller hearts to sell outside.
My sad smiles met genuine happiness that swooned over my chocolates. Laughing lovers teased each other with the hearts as thiers glowed radiantly.
Mine was still just an empty pit.
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Swooning lovers danced by in expensive jewellary that dangled just above ribbons of balloons. Soft toys holding thier own messages of love were swaddled in every arm.
I sat in my rocking chair outside, hand-sewing my own bundle of softness with its own special heart it held close.
It had fabric fur that swirled into rosettes, and adorable button eyes in his favourite colour. The stitching was red to resemble the colour of passion.
Surely, his heart would glow from my gift?
Spritzing it with the last of my mother's perfume I had been saving for myself, I breathed in her gentle memories that were warmed by the sun.
This was love. It was crooked and bursting at the seams, but it was beautiful.
However, the stitching wasn't tight enough to endure the fingers plucking it. The buttons weren't the right shade, and the perfume didn't invoke the same memories I held dear.
The little bear I bandaged more of my fingers for was left on the floor, torn apart and collapsing when I held it close to smother the aching.
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Joy surrounded me when my head laid on the table the next morning.
I unstitched the bear to segment into smaller ones, each with mismatched button eyes and thier own share of my mother's perfume still nestled into the divided fur.
Gasps of resurfacing fondness were shared as the bears were loved and shared. My mothers memories were adored by stranger's rather than the one closest to me.
The last bear; the last of her familiarity, was picked up by a man who breathed in its scent with a smile.
He held it, savoring the sight of the tighter stitching I had tugged into each one to prevent them from failing again.
Then, it was placed back down, along with the money meant to be exchanged.
My head lifted from the table to see a warm smile meet my misery, before it walked away.
Dragging the bear close, I let the tears flow silently at the kindness of the man who had kept my stolen heart from breaking completely.
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With fragile steps, I held the bear close through the days.
It gave me strength where my own lover could not. It comforted me with sweet memories and told me everything would be alright, just like my mother used to whisper when I was a child.
He didn't see the pain. He didn't know that I packed the bear into a suitcase I hid under the bed. He didn't see the lovers fawning over woven flowers and glittering bottles of perfume I stewed for hours and measured until my hands shook. He never noticed the man who would purchase my pieces, only to gift them back to me.
Every time I packed up with one of my own creations to appreciate for myself, the hole became a bit more bearable.
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Bit by bit, days were better.
Even when my one-sided love at home didn't show me the affection I yearned for, I soaked in it elsewhere.
I was the renewer of passion outside those miserable walls. I sparked the affection in others with my labours of love.
And, while I did, my heart-shaped hole softened whenever my wordless admirer lingered.
He was there to help me set out a table. He painted signs and carved trinkets to hang from them.
When my flowers were overshadowing me, he heaved out ladders to position them on so they flowed like waterfalls around me.
When chocolates began to melt in the sun, he pitched up an umbrella to help shade it all.
His smile was always there, hovering over me. His fingertips somehow happened to brush mine more times than what could be considered accidental.
He still had his heart too. It was guarded and wrapped in so many layers of duct tape that it almost smothered the shine pulsing from it. A sliver of the tape had peeled to reveal the brightness within that I awoke. Whenever we met, I felt the bubbling joy pop around the edges of mine.
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Where kindness tumbled into affection, that later tightened into a crush, there was jealousy.
It snapped whenever I came home, wiping my smiles clean.
It watched from the shadows my laughter and gratiousness towards the admirer.
It boiled and spat until it squealed like a burning kettle hissing out steam.
Claws ripped my heart from its jar to throw it to the ground.
Before I could rescue it, savage feet stomped it.
They twisted and snapped into my poor heart that fractured at every piercing heel trampling it. Tears spilled onto the floor at the agony being crushed into me.
Venomous, hateful words were hurled at me. They peppered my body and burrowed thier way into my heart-shaped hole that felt like it was cracking.
Then, the door was flung open to spill in the warmth of the life I had been losing myself in day by day.
Out there it was bursting with happiness and heartsong. It climbed up the walls and tried to pull me into it, until my crushed heart was thrown outside.
It tumbled and rolled through the dirt that gathered in a thick layer around it. I frantically chased after it, falling to my knees to try and brush off the ugliness.
The door slammed behind me, to leave me tending to my crushed heart alone.
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Night forced me back inside to try and patch up the lump that refused to fuse back together.
Bandaids kept my mishapen heart from falling out. They covered the worst of the footprints still embedded into it that caused cracks to spread.
It wasn't beautiful, but it held everything in place.
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I didn't dare to leave the house after patching my heart. It was far too fragile to cause another outburst. Even when the venomous shadow lingered, I turned from the sunshine.
Drawing the curtains closed on another afternoon of serving the shadow, I spotted the man waiting at the edge of my fenceline for me. His tape had peeled more, shining through.
Glancing, I worried about my daydream becoming a reality. It was right there, waiting for me to join it in a better life.
But, the shadow was right here. It squeezed me in its grip so tightly that I couldn't escape it. Without it, I was nothing. Nothing would cherish me like it did or keep my heart safe in a little jar where no-one else could hurt it.
My face, hardened into a mask of what it used to be, remained sad. A smile longer than a fleeting second hadn't pressed my lips in months. I wore the mask to keep the shadow content.
It looked how he liked, forced smiles in his direction, reassured him he was the only one.
But, even with the mask, the man outside waited. He was ready to act on fantasies we only laughed about. A yellow car was parked behind him to take us away. There was only one road out of town and it was ours.
Glancing again, my heart ached for the world beyond the curtains I drew on it.
Turning, I slumped to the bedroom where I sat silently.
This wasn't a life, trying to win love that wasn't going to be shared with anyone. Nothing I did in my routine of keeping the shadow happy and turning from temptation day after day sparked joy anymore. I was moving through the steps like a wind-up toy teetering closer to toppling over.
My feet brushed the suitcase I slid out to run my fingers along.
It was dusty from the months accumulated. The bear was still stuffed inside, along with some clothing and a few dollers hidden inside an old cloth.
I gathered everything together on days like today from when I had wanted to give into the life outside the window. Again and again I prepared my heart, and over and over I cracked it.
Today.
Maybe....Yes. Today was the day.
He still waited. After months of my face shutting out his, he still returned to the border of something better.
My dust-coated dreams rested by my feet, ready to be shelved again.
My hands gripped the handle, savouring the feel of the cracked leather and the weight of all of my preparation for this moment.
Today was the day.
You deserve this!
A smile played on my lips for the first time. It cracked the miserable mask that chipped and broke. Parts remained, clinging in case I shelved my ambitions again.
My hands pulled up the suitcase to squeeze it. My feet, bare and weary, sprinted out the bedroom door.
I ran past the shadow who didn't have time to react. It whipped into a frenzy when my hands finally twisted the front door knob to throw it wide open.
Sunshine warmed my skin when I rushed outside. Bare skin stained with dirt when i bolted for the man still waiting.
The shadow screamed after me, whipping and snarling at the door and edge of its dark domain. It shot tethers out to wrap around my feet and trip me up.
They started to tighten again in an attempt to reel me back in.
The man tore through it to help me. He gripped my hands to pull me from the restraints, running a hand over my face when the rest of the mask fell into the dirt at his kindness warming me again.
His hands took my suitcase and led me to the car I slipped into, shaking.
Seeing the shadow still struggling to veer outside the darkness, I smiled at how brave I had been to escape it.
The car pulled from the silent screaming as a gentle hand and warm eyes tried to soothe me.
Looking down at my patched, trampled heart, I saw one of the bandaids starting to peel. A soft light matched that of the man who had given me the courage to take this leap.
Finally, I was free.
With only a suitcase in the back seat, I had nothing of value to give this man to benefit him.
But as I saw his heart glowing alongside mine, I realised that he didn't grow to fall in love with my chocolates, flowers, or bears; he fell in love with the woman and her trapped jar heart who wanted to help peel away the ductape of his own.
Together we would heal each other, one day at a time.
Together, nothing else mattered.
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