There was a boy. Tall, fair, good looking boy.
Life’s been harsh to me, he said.
But I could not care less, he said.
One day he found another love, so he thought.
Since he was kind of picky, the boy has always been addicted to love as soon as he found one.
I don’t like to pretend..such a waste of time, he said.
But it was complicated.
The heart of that girl was once broken, and torn into pieces. It was mended, poorly… and still healing itself bit by bit.
That broken heart she had, was already growing stronger and tougher, sometimes too strong as if nothing can even shake it anymore.
The boy often feels frustated. Expectations lead him to sensitivity, his own heart sometimes bruised.
Is it him, or is it her?
Maybe, the boy had not realized that :
It takes a strong man to own a heart of a broken girl.