Not for the way it beats, skips when I feel dizzy after a kiss.
Not for its strength, its resilience.
Not for the way it loves and keep on loving, again and again and again.

My heart was built by every middle school crush and all the afternoons at the park, pumping and pushing me forward. It was bolstered by running, reinforced through each person who smiled at me, who told me I mattered. It is a product of my mother’s hugs and father’s goodnight kisses, the teachers and coaches who squeezed my hand and the boys who passed love notes across their desks. It is the high schooler who wrote a song for me, the friends who loved me as a sibling, and my own baby sister, who interlaced her tiny fingertips with mine. It is all the people I’ve cared for and who have opened their own hearts to me. It is all my happy memories.

My heart is a heart softened by years of loving, toughened with every heartbreak.

A heart that forgives, that continues, that pumps blood and butterflies to every part of my body and doesn’t ever stop.

And so I won’t apologize for it.

I won’t apologize for how it bounces back after pain, for how it lets go of hurt, for how it finds new ways and new people to fall for.

I won’t apologize for its recklessness, for its fearlessness.
I won’t apologize for how it loves with abandon, without restrictions.
For how it never follows the rules.
For how it loves because that is all it knows.

It is a beautiful heart. Thick. Patient. Proud.

A heart that will not be destroyed, but only become fiercer, even through brokenness.

I will not apologize for this stupid heart, this heart that knows better, but doesn’t care. This heart that sees the good in people. This heart that believes.

This is my beautiful heart, and I will wear it on my sleeve, in my chest, and with every kiss. Foolishly. Honestly. Passionately.