Her cozy cell—self imprisonment of the heart

She’d always thought she wore her heart on her sleeve, trusting too easily, jumping into love too quickly, willing to believe the best in everyone. She was brutally honest, didn’t hide her defects, owned her mistakes. She dropped everything to be there for those she loved. She gave everything she had to her loved ones. Until one day, she caught it.

In her mind, she was walking through a field of daisies. Everything serene and happy. Butterflies in her stomach, sun on her skin, everything right in the world. This was love, she thought, this was finally going to be the relationship that lasted. Out of that field arose a darkness. It slammed into her mind like a gate, crashing down on her, making her turn and run. Love couldn’t be trusted. They would hurt her. She would hurt them. None of this was real. The flowers withered and died before her eyes. The sun snuffed out by the darkness. The change so sudden, she didn’t know what was happening.

This, you see, is what happened every time a potential happy ending came into her life. Her heart wasn’t on her sleeve, it was in a cage. Fleeting moments of escape led her to believe she was free, but it had grown to love it’s captor. The cage was it’s home, familiar, though dank and cold. She knew what to expect in that place. She knew how sadness felt, disappointment, betrayal, neglect. Her heart didn’t know how to be loved.

One might think her heart would soar at the thought of new love and new adventures, and for a time it did. But it always seemed to retreat. Allowing herself to be vulnerable was terrifying, she’d make great strides out into the open before retreating to her safe little cage. Her cozy darkness, filled with familiar pain. How could someone choose pain over happiness? She knew in her heart that she still didn’t trust it to be real. She didn’t trust that the happiness would be ripped from her. That it wasn’t all a farce or some cruel trick being played on her yet again.

She was manifesting her own misery. By believing it never to be true happiness, it wasn’t. By retreating into her safe little cell of darkness, she ensured that the darkness would indeed come. She wanted to walk in the light, to feel the sun kiss her skin, her hair blowing in the breeze, free and full of love. But what if the darkness came again? Living on that knife’s edge, she undoubtedly would choose the familiar over the unknown time and time again.

Doubt filled her. She was on that knife’s edge again. Which way would she fall this time? Towards the familiar, or into the unknown and risk happiness?

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