They call me a living stone. They once called Jesus one, because he died but then came back. Maybe, one day I will come back. A year ago, I died only a silent death, it was a quiet ceremony and a closed casket. For I was the only one that attended. It was a beautiful ceremony at only eighteen years of age. The eulogy read for a young girl, a dreamer, a lovely soul that sought out to change the world, become a leader, a voice for those who could not speak. They talk of the girl who was born too soon for her time. The saying is Gods sends his mightiest warriors to go through the toughest battles but only she did not return.  

Sometimes I people watch, pray to God to send me someone, anyone. Waiting for nourishment for this malnourished neglected heart.  

Was it when I thought a damaged person like me could find love. Back when butterflies consumed my waking hours occupying my time better spent studying. But even when I thought I found love; I loved with my running shoes next to my ominous heart. I loved you like a crime scene. Letting you in was my choice. Proving me right was yours.  

Definition: A place of safety or refuge.