My whole life, I’ve been the kind of person who pours their heart into everything.

It could be a silly ‘get to know me’ discussion board post or a really good bowl of pasta, but either way, I’m all in.

I function under the firm belief that if something matters to you, you should care with every fiber of your being.

That has always made me an overly passionate, childish shadow of what everyone expects me to be,

It also makes you kind of vulnerable.

I sound like a cartoon character saying this, but I mean it when I say that I want all the things in life that are ‘too good to be true’ to be given the chance to be proven as such.

I pour my heart into what I write, what I watch, what I eat.

And most importantly, I pour my heart into people.

And it sucks, especially when you preserve yourself in an imaginary glass case to protect yourself. I feel like if anyone dared to tap the glass a little too hard, it’d all shatter and scrape me up over and over.

Finding out that you’ve poured yourself into the wrong person, and not for the first time, feels like someone rebuilding that glass box, only to shatter it all over again, knowing that it’s there to keep people like them out.

I never really regret the time or energy I put in. Everything in life happens to you because it needs to, one way or another. There’s no other way to learn.

But when you’re the kind of person that pours themself into people, you find yourself relearning that same lesson until there’s nothing left for you to spill.

I’m not done pouring. But I kind of wish I was.