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My heart has been torn, battered and beaten. Just when I think the pain is gone, it returns, like a lost puppy who thinks I am it's owner. I can handle pain now. It bothers me no more. I have dealt with it so long, I am immune to it. I may cry every night, but I'm alright. I guess I'm not the cowgirl my granny wanted me to be. "Cowgirls don't cry" she would remind me. But, that was always for scars and outside bruises. No one ever mentioned what to do for a punctured heart. I thought he could heal it. He has only bandaged it. The scars are still there. He's like a painkiller. Only reduces the pain as long as he's still there. Only time may tell if he really can heal me. I fear that he might only make it worse. We are so far up in the clouds, the only way from here is downhill. I know it's the truth. And just when I thought everything was fine, I lost a couple friends too. I don't think they meant to hurt me. That isn't what friends do but they did. What can I do but just sit here and let life guide me? I don't know how much longer I will be able to take all this pain before I just explode.