"The heart was made to be broken, they said. The heart is like the vase holding the flowers, except when the flowers die the heart cracks and the vase falls to the floor.
The heart, was made to be betrayed. How stupid it is to love someone without knowing each and every aspect of them through and through. Of course it'll be betrayed! They said, of course it will.
The heart was made to be beaten, and bruised. But each and every time he did it to me, I still found myself begging him not to. I found myself saying no.
And that's when I began to wonder, is the heart made for pain?" Benji said.
The rows of people fell silent, awaiting his next words.
"The second I saw your eyes, the second I felt your skin on mine. The second your lips wished they were near mine and soon, they were, that's when I knew the answer to my question.
The heart was not made to be broken. The heart was not made to be betrayed, or beaten or bruised." He looked towards jorge, admiring the way the silk fabric hugged his skin.
"The heart isn't made to be given away, and it isn't meant to be loved. It isn't meant to be coddled by the two hands you seem to trust the most. No, the heart is meant to live. It's meant to see the sunrise and fall, it's meant to smile without a reason. And with you, Jorge garay, my heart has lived every second."
Benji said, completing his vows.
Jorge's eyes weld with the familiar ponds they traveled across when they were younger, and tracked down his cheeks like the trails their worn out converse made in the grass.
"You May now kiss the groom."
And they did. And it wasn't like the first. Nothing would ever be. And they were alright with that.
But it was new. And new had become their new favorite word.
