That Time That My Heart Was Torn Up

By Zion Loo

I was about seven or eight years old and my sister was around four or five when she took my heart and shredded it into dozens of little pieces. It was sometime in December before Christmas and I had prepared a cute little drawing to give to her, sealed in an envelope under the tree. It was just a crayon drawing of two stick figures, me and her holding hands. It probably said “I love you” somewhere. I was aware that it was nothing special, but even if I didn’t know it at the time, that little drawing was the embodiment of my heart.

She found it under the tree. I suppose it must have said who it was for because she really wanted to open the thing. Immediately. I begged her not to until Christmas, but in the end, I stopped. I suppose I doubted she would actually open it.

But she did. And like an evil villain in a cartoon, she sneered something along the lines of “This is all? It’s so stupid,” before she proceeded to rip it up in front of me. I swear I fell to my knees, crying.

If something like this has never happened to you, you have to understand the absolute heartbreak at that moment that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

….That is until I told her about it years later and saw her rack her brain for any kind of memory of such a thing, crying a little, and frantically apologizing despite having no memory of it. Ever since I got that reaction, I’ve stopped crying at the memory, in fact, I don’t even remember it very well anymore. It’s in the past, and today my little sister is the closest person to me in the world.

So um… I suppose time alone isn’t always the best medicine. Sometimes you deserve a heartfelt apology to let bygones be bygones. ...Even if they don’t remember what your talking about.

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