My Heart Is Mid-Step

For an old friend, I hope that both our wounds can heal.

I charge my heart with the task of exploring its home, the confines of my being.  It is its job now to discover the depths of its own basement, to squeeze through its own crawlspace.  While clearing out the cobwebs, I came across the picture of an old friend that I had hurt.

I had been drastically and humiliatingly hurt in my past, and it took a recent love to show me that I seek these patterns.  Not because I want them, but because I expect them to be there.  I expect to get hurt in the same way.  I haven't yet, and now that I see my pattern, I never will.

When I was hurt those few years ago, I accidentally dragged someone completely awesome down with me.  I made such a ruin of her heart, that she had to escape the city in which I lived.  Here's the kicker, I didn't even know how badly I had hurt her.  She was the furthest person from my mind for such a long time.

I recently reconnected with her via, of course, social media.  I apologized, before I knew what damage I had even done.  Now that I know, I am truly and whole-heartedly sorry.

You have grown into a beautiful and talented woman.  New York has treated you well.  You might not be able to trust, and that is my fault, but know that I want to help patch that hole that I had made.  I hope that in time, you can trust me as a friend.

We live our lives so wrapped up in our own emotions that we are blind to the hearts of others.  In the eyes of others, we are the sum of our actions, not our intentions.

I'm trying to own my heart.  To do so, I must own my actions.