Everyone has a heart. The heart is a clump of muscle imbedded inside your chest, hidden behind your lungs and ribcage. Upon first glance, upon first experience, you plunge your hand into your chest and enclose your fist around your heart.
You’ll keep your hand enclosed around that heart. Maybe you will release your heart, sew up your chest, then wash the blood off your hands.
Or maybe something will happen, and you begin to pull your heart out of your chest. Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt. Just don’t pull too hard or too fast, you could bleed yourself to death. No, pull slow, allow time to clot, then keep pulling.
Who knows how long it takes until you can hold your heart at arm’s length? Maybe it takes two years. Two years sounds like a good amount of time.
Your heart is enclosed in your hand, pumping, pumping, slightly connected to your chest and the rest of your body. You look up. There it is. There is the thing, the person, the place, the reason you pulled your heart out in the first place. Blood soaks your footsteps so you’ll always know the way you came.
You have two options.
The first option is to cut your heart away from you body. Hand it to that person, place it on the ground, do anything that shows that your heart is no longer your own.
They could crush it. Stomp on it, squeeze it slice and dice it up. They could do anything at all and you could do nothing about it. It is no longer your heart.
You have another option.
Turn away. Put your heart back into your chest. Stack your ribs on top and peel your lungs back into place. Sew yourself up. The heart is yours. It will stay yours. Do not ever let it go again.