Sem tempo de escrever, muita vida acontecendo...



Last night, right before finally sleeping, I was wondering if my heart could still get as broken as it used to, and thought not. Maybe I don't get as invested as I used to, which would be a total shame, but understandable. Maybe I'm jaded and don't find people as interesting as I used to. Maybe my world is larger and it takes a whole lot more to turn it upside down than it used to. Part of me wishes I could still be as heart-broken as I used to, part of me thinks it still can happen (and fears that), part of me knows that the occasional pangs I get are more than enough.