The metaphorical heart

I keep parts of my soul in storage. Like an old coat, I will take it out periodically and dust it off. After a while, you can't remember why that old favourite was hidden and you carefully place it in your pocket.

On Friday night, I took a piece of it to Coffeeboy and he used it to wipe his feet. It can't be helped he didn't know what it was for.
On Saturday morning, Sb took that same piece and he used all of his hurt and frustration to hurl it across the room.

I picked it up and looked at it

I cried because it was now torn and tattered. I couldn't recognise it. I sat on the floor putting it back together.

Mexicana saw she had a piece in Canberra, kissed it and handed it back to me.

I went to work

Blondie said to me "I know you're doing it rough", she then put a chocolate in a spot where there was a hole.

Teddy looked at it, saw that it was flat and propped it up with his hand and a coffee cup.

I went home

By the end of the weekend, it was clearly damaged and no kisses or chocolate could repair it fully. Devastated, I returned it to its box. When the tears finally dry, I will take it out and inspect it, I will promise myself to be more careful with it, I will forget why I hid it in the first place, I will put it back in my pocket and keep walking.