When my heart was younger and more innocent it used to run openly towards people, without preconceived ideas or doubts, and it loved them unconditionally.
After many years of being crushed, broken, taken for granted, scorned… following sleepless, but tearful nights when I repeated over and over again like a mantra, that I will never love again, my heart saved itself through numbness. Following it through pain of separation, routine, solitude and, what I thought, death, I discovered the strangest thing; the stillness of the waters of my heart, which now instead of chasing love, make room for it.
As if that hope which was thought to have vanished spoke softly to my heart of hearts, comforting it and encouraging it. These hopeful waters keep whispering to it that if it managed to survive this much and still see good in people then it can certainly love again.