And if I can make a confession... My time is torn between a man who has won my affections... and the God who made me.
My heart is out there, again. I threw it out there.
Why do I do that?
I knew I would get hurt. But, I think this time I was hoping for a chance that I wouldn't. Maybe this was the time that once I threw it... it would somehow land on a pillow, or in a foam pit instead of the concrete and into a million little pieces. I haven't yet gotten hurt. I keep scraping my porcelain heart on the ground with a rope... bringing it in closer and closer as I take steps back, and throw more and more walls up.
At the same time as moving backwards and throwing walls up... I feel as if I'm walking closer and tearing walls down. Crazy, isn't it?
The thing is... I haven't met someone like you. Maybe if you weren't so shy, and I weren't so hesitant... this could all work out.
But then again, maybe not. I'll just keep dragging this heart across the pavement until you pick it up.
Oh Lord, protect my heart. Don't let it be deceitful.
PS. I really enjoy Grey Street.
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