“Where is your heart?”
He asked in exasperation. His eyes. Searching hers. Looking for answers that were lost in the dark waters of her abused soul.
This was the ultimate question, she knew.
Where was her heart?
This question…this question should sting in every sense of the word.
But it didn’t…because she knew her heart, wherever it was, could never be restored to what it used to be–filled with so much love. How naive she used to be.
After this year–this year of so much loss and tragedy–Opa, gone…then Sylvie, goddamn, Sylvie and her suicide.
How can a heart ever return to it’s former self after so much loss.
— — — —
No, she didn’t know where her heart was…but she did know she could no longer make it accessible to him.