The young G, with no light in her eyes and her mouth without any smile, was dead inside because of life. She was feeling the weight of her body in each step, dragging herself on the dirty concrete and holding her heart in her hands. Life gave her the most precious gift she could ever expect but we know how life is. Life is like one of those people that never keeps promises and, when you don’t expect it, they give you their back. Life is like that, sometimes the good and sometimes the bad version of a diligent teacher, always ready to give us lessons but instead of leaving chalk marks on the board, she leaves black marks on the heart with a permanent marker. The young G’s heart had one of those non-erasable lines underscoring a name that was not hers. All the tears she shed couldn’t wash away the pain contained in that fragile and wounded heart but, on the contrary, they made it even more swollen with sadness. The young G dead inside didn’t know that to fix a heart you need a needle and thread. She didn’t know that you have to sit down, maybe in a rocking chair that cradles thoughts and lets the bough break in the meantime, breathing and mending. Mending is a practice that takes time, training and patience. G didn’t know that her heart was still hers and that instead of holding it in her hands, she should have found a way to put it back in her chest. The heart is not so fragile like we think. The heart takes charge of all affections, sorrows, fears; it holds so many names that are not ours. If you listen well and you feel the beat, it means you need to live because you are not dead. One day, Time made a visit to the young G and whispered, “I will help you.” Because of those words, the young G dead inside, decided to use Time to renew not only herself but also to let go of the name she was holding so tightly in her heart.
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