I once believed in a heart with an ejector seat and a parachute tucked into a vein, because jellyfish belong in the sky.
I once believed in a heart with airbags and a seat belt across the septum, because hearts don’t like to sleep on the concrete.
But the tooth fairy gives nothing to the world-weary, hobbling about toothlessly. And the elves don’t wrap presents for the poor children gathered in carboard dresses on the street. In the same way, you and I stopped believing. I guess our hearts just had no insurance, because we couldn’t afford it and being carefree and young, we thought we wouldn’t need it.