Hello, my old heart.

I can’t believe I had you in my chest. You, my old heart, ran in circles. Because you cared too much about a million little things, you never cared about one big thing enough to make a difference. In a body made for movement, old heart, you stayed in the same place. Always breaking up and making up with the same toxic relationships, hating your city but never having the courage to leave "what you know," muttering “go die” as your boss walks by, hating yourself as you passed by a mirror. Complaining about anything and everything but never doing anything to fix your problems. Old heart, you wasted a lot of your time.

I have a new heart. I listened to my body; the heart is the strongest muscle. The postcards from my heart are from the places my heart has travelled; the place where I first stood up for myself, where I unapologetically gave an opposing opinion, where I yelled instead of whispered.

There are so many things I want you to know now.

I can’t remember what your voice sounds like.

I remember what it felt like to care about you.

I can’t remember what your touch feels like.

I remember what it was like to fight with you.

I can’t remember the last time we looked into each other’s eyes.

I remember what it was like to smile and cry for you.

When did all this happen? Yesterday? A month ago? A year ago?

You used to be my home. I was evicted a long time ago. Or did I move out? Both.

I was homeless for a while, exposed to the elements.

I’ve found shelter but I do not want to find a new home. Not yet.

I can’t remember you. I remember what it was like to know you.

Maybe I never truly knew you.