Oh, my heart.
When I say these words, it is sometimes because I've seen a child do something sweet and innocent, the acts Jesus explains to us are child-like, the acts we are called to perform in His name. Unconditional love. No strings.
Oh, my heart.
I also say this when I have an ache in my heart. When I've witnessed destruction and devastation. When people close to me die. When I disappoint myself. When others disappoint me. When I am lonely. Strings not needed; no one is there to pick them up anyway.
Oh, my heart.
That tiny flutter, when someone speaks tenderly to me, through actions or words. Especially when it is unexpected. That flutter releases out into my world, and carries hopes and dreams up to the heavens as prayers. It is squeaky clean, and new, and knows no ache. The promise of strings to come.
Strings attached aren't always bad; many times, they are what we long for. They warmly hold us together when times are hard. They weave a tapestry of love for us, through the highs and lows of truly loving someone, making us stronger together as one unit.
I want the flutter. I require strings. I even want the absolute ache of losing someone, because I loved them so fiercely along the journey. That is what the heart is designed to accomplish.
Oh, my heart.
