And maybe the world just needs me to be heart broken. Maybe I am doomed to feel all the love possible, and feel it ripped from my chest. After all, I’m different when I’m heart broken. My mind explodes. Creativity, hope, passion pours out of me. Out of the broken pieces. I am fearless. I am reckless. Nothing can hurt you when you cannot feel. But just before I go numb. I feel everything. I feel guilt. I feel his pain. I mourn him. I desire him. My chest shrinks, constricting my lungs. Taking my breath. It’s unbearable. I feel too deeply. So I turn it off. It becomes so much, it hurts so badly, I just stop feeling. Maybe I must always be broken. And as I am numb, a new love saves me and again breaks me. A cycle of love, heart ache, and emptiness. Maybe the world needs me to remain broken.