The Heist

I was the victim of a great scheme

At 17 I met the most talented actor, and the world’s greatest thief.

No one noticed him when he walked into the room…well, almost no one. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. I knew I had to get to know him. From that night on we talked from sun rise to sun set. I’d get lost in his light blue eyes for days at a time as we went about our lives with not a care in the world. I’d notice the tiny things about him, like how his eyes kind of sparkled when something he loved came up in conversation or how passionate he was about his art. I remember how his lips would curl up in the corners every time he said something sweet or had just kissed me. He hated is beautiful red hair that would dance under the summer sun. I remember everything, from him originally telling me he liked me ( gave me a pack of cigarettes, flipped a lucky and wrote ’ i like you ’ on it) to our last kiss and everything in between. But I won’t bore you with that. 

He led me to believe that he was my soul mate. He fooled me into letting my guard down and showing him event he deepest, darkest depths that lay within my soul. He even made me believe that he showed me his. He made me happy on days where everything was falling apart. We agreed on nearly everything and if we didn’t then it turned into either a deep conversation or a rowdy debate. We never ran out of things to say to one another and were always ourselves, well, I was always myself. 

He eventually found out that my heart was under lock and key, never to be shown to anyone. Why you ask? Because love isn’t real…or so I thought. When he discovered this he begged and pleaded to get that key. He banged on the four walls that were too strong for just anyone to be able to knock down. 

He began to get frustrated. He stopped coming around as much and i started to feel my heart ache. I didn’t know why this was happening. How could my heart be in pain if it’s never been touched by another human being? I ignored it at first, thought maybe I was just anxious because my sailor had been at sea for sometime now. As days passed the pain got worse and worse until I got my key and went to check the safe that held my heart. 

It was gone. The safe was empty. There was no sign of my heart anywhere to be found. It was just gone, like it had disappeared in thin air. 

I haven’t heard from the boy since then, four months ago. The boy had stolen my heart, the one thing I had worked so hard to protect and keep away from every one. I tried so hard to prevent this feeling from ever happening. 

It’s been four months and every now and then I still get a sharp pain in my chest where my heart should be, and it just reminds me that you’re gone, like dust in the wind, never to return to me again. You’re gone with the one thing that I protected most. 

My sailor became my thief. I genuinely hope that he is happy and feels accomplished. The only thing I ask of him is to please stop kicking it around and please please don’t break it anymore than you already have. 

Author's Note

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