My heart is breaking again, except this time I won’t have any thoughts of taking my life. No, I want to live now. In a few days, my heart will once again shatter into a billion pieces and I will want to live, if only in the hope that maybe, just maybe, my heart will have reason to heal, to hang on, to survive. Why now? I closed my eyes and opened them and this crown of thorns around my heart grew tighter, the gash deeper, the blood fresh.