Empty Shell

The night my boyfriend passed away to cancer a little part of me died with him. He was my everything, and the dead shell he left became a fence that stood around my heart. And someone came along who stood outside the fence looking longingly to get in. But I did not let him in. So he sat outside and buried beneath my fence and got to my heart. When he left, he took with him a piece of heart. The hollow shell he left formed a wall around my heart and my tears became the moat, keeping everyone and everything out. And then a valiant knight, young and full of hope changed up to the moat and demanded to be let in pounding his fists on the door and screaming my name. And when I wasn’t looking, he built a bridge and got to me. He tried to rescue me and pull me into the world, out of my shell and away from my wall. But I clung to it. And eventually he went away saddened, older and more cynical, but wiser. And with him went a piece of my heart, clinging to him without our noticing. There is almost nothing left of me now. I sit in a cold dark empty room that was once filled with confidence and light and love.
I wish I could get it all back.