Great, Wide Somewhere

I try to believe that there is good in every person. That people in my life aren't in it just to scramble things up when they seem to be falling into place. I want to believe in second chances. Maybe even third, fourth, fifth, and seventeenth chances. I want to believe that people change. But chances keep getting thrown into the wind like feathers. And my heart gets a small nick in it each time. When does a heart stop working as it should? How much must be chipped away before it can no longer be healed?

Maybe people don't change. Maybe I won't change. Maybe I'll keep giving chances and getting nicked.

Aphrodite, known as the "Venus de Milo"