I've been tossed like a cigarette butt-- used up, burned out, and then ground into the dirt. It was probably one of the most loathesome sensations I've known that I will never wish it upon anyone. But this feeling is inevitable since a man and a woman continue to coexist. If one has had his heart torn asunder and mended, then the process is repeated. Perhaps it's one of the most inevitable things that happened to me. The might of a man. Once I am stricken by the a subconscious whim, I become a hopelessly romantic shell of a woman.

The heart. It is gullibly hopeless in its headlong pursuit for recognition. The history of my heart can be traced from flinging itself into the world of deception in which it struggled to convince my mind that it received what it deserved, that the dogma implanted into the mind is a cushion against worldly forces that can easily crush it. In this pursuit, some perished and some survived.

When I love, I give all. Sometimes I give too much that I forget to live. Petty follies of youth or idealism of a young woman. There are times when my love becomes incoherent and mindless but love it is, nonetheless. Those who were with me surely know what I mean. But I am not really unconditional when I am loving. I ask to be loved back or to be recognized or to be appreciated, at least? I ask things that are very affordable, most people even give them out for free.

The only thing that I detest the most is betrayal. I feel betrayed now by the person who once became the center of my world. Maybe the pedestal where I stood was not high enough for him. There was no recognition, no public declaration of love, no signs of pride for having me. Strangely, I managed to stay for two years. It was my heart who stayed. I couldn't blame it for I thought it found the unprecendented happiness and fulfillment on the solid ground upon which it stood. As it turned out, the foundation only appeared strong. I was the one who left because I never felt that I belonged in the first place. Two years was enough.

A few weeks after I left, he declared his affection for another woman. I don't think I fell short but the phenomenon is hard to explain.

I am with someone now who loves me more that I love him. Is that a good thing? I don't know. It's been so long since I felt my love reciprocated. The thing is, I am now afraid to give all. Sometimes the mind is unfair too, because it shackles the heart so tightly. Maybe it's the stigma of previous relationships that made things harsh and made the heart seems helpless.

I am hoping that this will be my last pitstop. I am giving love the chance to tame my heart once more because I believe that everything deserves a second chance... and a third... and a fourth....

Afterall, love is only for the brave.