You knew this story already, boy.

Let me tell you about the tale of my heart.
I guess I will never know precisely when it was here.
If one guesses since I was born, my heart was there already before.
Funny though, I can not even describe the size, the shape and even the smell.
I can only feel it.
It feels like a thundering storm in late midnight when it is mad.
It feels like a hot breezy summer day when it is happy.
It feels like digging the earth to place your dead body when it is broken.
It feels like a blank erased page when it is empty.
It feels like a roller coaster when it is in love.

My heart is like a secret garden that has a gate.
There is a peep-hole right in front of it if anyone cares to see.
However, sometimes I shut it so I can choose who I want to be seen.
The gate is so tall, that the knob is not easy for anyone to reach.
It is so heavy to swing, to let anyone remember how hard it is to be inside.
But it is not made of iron, where anyone can leave marks and erase it later.
There lie holes that took time to be patched with new memories.
Sometimes they are just numb to even feel the worst pain.
But sometimes those patches would go broken, and I have to re-patch it again.
And what that happens, I would just paint on my heart a new hope to crave.
So that maybe those holes will be like an artistic addition to it.
So that there would be a reason for them to be there.

The thing about my heart, it can be as hard and layered like a diamond.
But it can be as fragile and seen-through like a glass.
So then I only give the key to enter to the ones I need.

Ah the key..

There are some that have it without me even give it.
They just had the key even before I have the power to give them.
I don't have the ability to reject or take my key from them.
Because they are the ones that clinging into my blood.
My family has been inside and playing with my heart.
And I can only let them be, even if sometimes they play with it like a toy.

There are also some that I have the power to choose.
To give my key to the people that matter the most.
I have the right to take back my key when they used me.
Some best friends, that stabbed me from behind no longer had the key.
Some ex-lovers had their name engraved and couldn't be erased, they may have lost the key or simply I took back what's left of me from them.
Most of them don't care enough to come back and knock on my gate.
Yet there are some that took the courage to come back.
Sometimes I would let them stay for a night or two.
It is hard to let them stay forever, because it is the price they have to pay.
They forced me to create boundaries.
But their echoes stay.
Even if those echoes at some nights might turn to hauling wolfs.
And that's the price I have to pay, to enjoy every seconds of those screaming voices.

The ones that stay, and will always be, called themselves true friends.
Even at the worst pain, the worst time, the worst nightmare, they still hang on tight inside.
They preciously make everything precious.
They know how to value every little thing to its right measure.
And I let them stay, even if sometimes they would slap me to wake me up.

Ah but you knew this story already, boy.
Because you have been inside for sometime.
Yet yesterday you put a new hole on the gate.
And played with my heart without realizing the cause of it.
It turned out sometimes you can be such a fool.
Maybe I should have written a manual book of my heart so you'd know.
But you should have known.
You have got this far, you should know it by now.

© frettyaulia, 17.03.2008