Bits and pieces of yourself gone missing. Where they are can only be discovered by working backwards. There is the deepest part of your heart, the glimmer in your eye, the blush of your cheeks, all gone. Given and then given again until all that is left is the barest shadow of who you once were. How can it be that all that is left is the stoop of your shoulders, the crease of your forehead, the weariness of your soul?
You have spent your life giving to those you love and with every place where the love has grown cold a bit of you was lost or stolen some would say. Indeed it seems the saddest of discoveries was when you had finally given every hidden bit of yourself to that someone they had taken it, leaving you only the tears of yours eyes and the ache where your heart had once lived.
The little one beside you whispers into your ear and something flickers across the darkness of your eyes. Perhaps all hope is not lost and the missing pieces can be restored but it will take more then a moment or two. More than the monumental effort and energy to restore and then the willingness to give it all back. And what of a reassurance that it will be worth the risk yet again? There are none only an understanding that it is better to risk what is already only hurt and emptiness for something more for a little while.