GLASS HEARTS DO NOT BREAK LIKE REAL ONES DO.

A story.

CHAPTER I.

Year 19–. I was born with an extremely rare and incurable disease called the ‘SILICA-BASED CARDIOVULNER SYNDROME’, a condition that has molded my life into something both sad and beautiful. The intelligent people in white coats were curious and amazed (and costly to consult). They were my constant companions. I lived half my days in their offices and clinics and facilities. A misfortune that the people outside, in their colourful dresses and in their constantly moving world, were not as enthusiastic. Ever since I could speak, barely and in whispers, I could not explain, and so they could not understand. Why could I not move as freely as most do? Why did I not play games as did their children? Why is my countenance so slow and deliberate, so unfashionably late and discontent, my disposition so disastrously cold? In my later years I would see their fleshy beating hearts, that aggressive motion –1, 2, lub, dub– as they exchange hearts and settle in. I would grow more quietly.

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Hello. I painted and wrote this piece exactly two years ago, right after our cardiovascular module. Recently, my original post on social media resurfaced and brought back some memories. I think I was holding off on sharing this here until I finished more plates related to other subjects. As I never got around to making more plates, I also never got to post this one at all.

I don’t even know where this piece is now. I hope I didn’t throw it away…

Happy to remember the days when my heart was still as hard, fragile and immovable as glass.

See you around. 🥰