Heart Bones

by Colleen Hoover

I am made of steel now. Come at me, world. You can’t damage the impenetrable.

Even though pieces of me resemble pieces of them, I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged to either one of them. It’s as if I adopted myself when I was a kid and have been on my own since then.

Damaged people recognize other damaged people. It’s like a club you don’t want a membership to.

There’s definitely a quiet aspect to him that makes him seem introspective. Or maybe he’s just guarded. Whatever it is that makes him up as a whole, I find myself viewing him as a project I want to take on. A challenge. I want to crack him open and see what’s inside him that makes him the only person on the planet I’m genuinely curious about.

There’s a sadness in him and a little bit of it seeps out. I don’t like it because apparently sadness is what I connect with. I feel like he’s tugging at my soul with that look.

I don’t come across people very often who I think I can learn something from, but he might actually have me figured out more than I have him figured out. I find that attractive.