
The human heart is much like our pal Humpty: fragile and impervious. We allow ourselves to teeter on the wall's edge, our heads high in the sky and feet far from the earth, completely unaware of the possibility that we might fall. Others can see us from a distance and shake their heads at our abandon, but the thrill makes them easy to ignore.
What happens when we step on a crumbling brick and fall from the impossible heights of being in love? When we can't trust our judgement of where to place our feet?
Sometimes we are left at the bottom of the wall to pick thinks up on our own. Other times, our fellow silly Dumptys help us to sweep up the pieces.
I took my first tumble, and I suppose that I'm a lucky one: All the King's Horses and All the King's Men sent me a text message two days later asking to talk. Wanting to put things back together again.
We're working on it. I'm just worried that once things are glued back together again that the same faulty brick will come along on our journey along the wall and I will tumble again. Can love be like a muscle that needs stress to grow? OR- does a crack compromise everything?
To be honest, my heart has no idea so my brain keeps trying to take over... to tell me that doubt is a heavy companion that never truly leaves. If the idea of being permanently apart is ever welcomed by one of the two, even for just a few days, that eventually it will resurface with greater strength. That one would be silly to gift time to someone that questioned really wanting it.
But real love exists. I know because I've finally felt it. It has to be more than a nursery rhyme to have survived 4000ish years of humankind, right? And being so confident and sure and quiet and peaceful within it must be possible to reclaim. That is worth having faith in, even in the face of completely opposite logic.
So raise a glass to getting back onto the wall again and trying not to look down.



