Sometime I placed my hands on my chest and press it hard just to make sure all the shattered bits and pieces of the broken glass inside are still in place.
It's a fragile object - my heart, inside the broken jar. Every millisecond, a shattered piece can fall out of place, drop, and cut deep.
I guard my heart for that reason.
Not that I don't believe I deserve happiness. But this is what I happen when I fall in love - I do not just have a crush on you, I have a passion for your existence, almost an obsession. I believe I have to be here for a reason. It has to be Fate. And for that, unfortunately I gave you the power the tear my heart apart.
But somehow I believe, because it is you... because it's you - the memory will worth the pain.
