I often think about your heart. Is it wounded or it did fall apart? How many times did it break? And how many times did it fall in love? Maybe never, or maybe many times. They often say, having one love in your life is enough. For me, it was always you. The one who broke my heart, the one who owned my heart, the one who wounded me, yet the one who asphyxiated me. The one who confused my heart with a mixture of emotions. Everything that had scratched my heart, you were its cause. Before you invaded me, my heart was in a total seclusion. When you came, you never asked for my consent, you just went there into the deepest place in my heart, without giving me an alarm. I wonder if I can do the same to you. I wonder if I can find a way to dig deep into your heart, to swim inside your thoughts and emotions. I wonder if you let me, I wonder if you do.