Tin Man.

Ever since being diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder,
I've envied the tin man.
Not having a heart meant I would never experience chest pain,
Never experience hurt.
Never experience love.
I laid down on that hospital bed knowing very well I could die because of my faulty ticker.
I lay there, in the darkness,
Bitterly wishing for a new heart.
Or better yet, wishing I didn't have one to begin with.
As they pushed the needle through my chest,
I thought about the tin man.
I thought about how happy he was
When the wizard gave him his heart,
And I wondered if the tin man ever
Felt like his chest was going to explode into shrapnel,
Like mine did at that moment.
This morning I woke up and realized what a fool I have been.
I realized that you were gone, and never coming back.
There were pictures, and treasures and memories that you gave to me.
But you weren't there anymore.
My chest, though healed,
Felt as though it were exploding.
You had a heart.
You loved like it was your last day, everyday.
You never knew how important you were.
I never knew how important you were,
Until your heart stopped.
Until you were no more.
You and I followed the yellow brick road to the emerald city,
Neither of us actually knowing
You were the Wizard,
and I turned out to be the tin man.
And you were the one who would give me back my heart.