For my very first post, I would like to start things off with an ode to the heart. Not my heart, per say, but the collective heart of my friends and loved ones, past and present.
(Please read the following with a David Attenborough accent …because it sounds better)
When a heart has been truly and soundly ripped apart, it will grow back mangled and disfigured. It will never be able to take its original shape and can never be as smooth, supple and forgiving.
Consequently, anything that has a slight effect on the heart will either cause it to burst open fully or recoil in anticipation of pain. Our hearts learn only from what they have experienced. As such, broken hearts are hard to mend and impossible to fully heal (unless you are so lucky enough as to suffer from selected memory loss). Luckily, hearts are strong and we do not need to live with fully healed hearts in order to be perfectly happy. We do not even require fully healed hearts in order to fall in love with another would-be heart breaker.
They will always grow back no matter how many times they have been dashed, smashed and trashed. Their capacity and ability to function will remain unchanged.
Perhaps the only real detriment is having ugly sleeves.