Red Queen of Broken Hearts's blog: "Tale of the broken heart"

I stand outside the door of the room where I have kept my heart since the devastation.  Key in my hand a stare at the door,  dare I open it?  Risk devastation again?  I lower myself to look thru the keyhole and peek thru it, I can see the scars.  Remnants of the pain.  Permanant damage I wonder?  I straighten and look at the door, the bolt, the lock.  I turn and lean my back against the door and close my eyes.  Thinking of the defenses I have spent years building.  Hiding behind physicality and dispensing with emotion.  At war within myself, desire and rationality at odds.  Should I do it, try to love again?  I turn put my hand on the bolt, the key in the lock and pause.