One of the fears I carry is that my heart might go numb again.

But this fear does not control me. And it should not worry you.

My heart beats now — strongly, fully — and it beats for you. The numbness I once felt was never because of you. It existed long before you entered my life. It was born from battles I fought alone, from wounds I never spoke about, from things I was afraid to confront and kept postponing. It was not indifference. It was exhaustion.

You did not create that numbness. If anything, you interrupted it.

You reminded my heart what it feels like to be alive. And a heart remembers what revived it.

The numbness came from running away from parts of myself — from fears I was not ready to face. But I am no longer interested in running. I am ready to confront what I delayed. Not because I am forced to, but because I finally want to.

And I will borrow some of your strength.

Especially the part of you that sees love clearly — that understands how it sharpens us instead of weakening us. Through you, I began to see love not as a risk, but as a force.

I will fill my heart again — not only with romantic affection, but with love in its wider form. Love for the people I trust. Love for experiences I once kept myself distant from. Even love for parts of life I never allowed inside.

Because of you, I believe I can.

My heart will keep beating. I will keep living from the inside — not shutting down, not retreating into silence. I will protect it by planting better things within it: affection, trust, courage.

And as I grow, as I heal, as I strengthen what once felt fragile, that same heart will return to you — not wounded, not numb, but alive.