It's funny how desires work. A thought pops up in our mind, and it snowballs to the point that if we don't do it, we fear we may explode in that very moment.
The lustful heart. How dangerous it is for both parties. Secret touches, forbidden words whispered in passing breaths. We all want love. Even for just one second. We crave the sweetness of being adored, even if the aftertaste burns our lips... and hearts. We fall for the wrong people, for the right reasons; most of the time. We fall in love with how a person laughs, or talks, or the way their eyes crinkle ever so slightly when they smile. We notice the tiniest things about them and grow fascinated by them. Curiosity about the scar on their hand or why they don't know how to react when you say sweet words to them. You watch everything they do and store it in your mind. A memory to re-watch on the days you miss them. But we can also get addicted to the way they make us feel. How the world doesn't seem so vast anymore or how your heart slows as they hold you. You memorise how their hands feel in yours and you make blueprints of their lips in your mind. You get addicted to the electric shock down your body as their undivided attention is on you. Do you really love them or do you just love not being alone? Both, perhaps.
Oh, how curious the human heart is. Capable of feeling so profoundly and deeply but capable of killing it the very next second. How quickly our feelings change. They cannot be trusted. Promise me you won't fall for the trap of love again. I ask you, no, I beg you, please don't do it. I am only nineteen years old, but I have felt the greatest of heartbreaks. Love, in this world, will destroy you. Maybe, I have only ever known the wrong types of love. The love of an abusive dad, of cheating and abusive boyfriends, the love of someone who is truly not meant for me. I have been heart broken and I have broken hearts; I wish for neither any more.
Being heart broken makes you feel like you will surely die the very next moment. No air enters your lungs, lips and mind frozen in time as you feel every piece of your shattered heart fall. Every moment death does not take you, you taunt the devil so that he may come quicker.
However, in some ways, being the heart breaker can feel even darker. You meet the side of yourself you thought would remain in hell. So cruel and inhuman. To see someone crawling on their knees begging for the scrapes of your love, but the best that you can afford to give them is time, and when you get bored, you cannot even afford that anymore. You turn and laugh as they scramble to pick up the pieces of their heart before the wind blows them away.
No, I do not wish for either. But if I were forced to choose one, I'd choose to have my heart broken. A painful reminder that life is real. How dull our lives would be with no heart break.