I have kept my heart guarded in a box made of Titanium metal. It can be scratched, it can be molded into different shapes, but it’s one of the toughest materials to break known to man.
I’ve built and grown this metal that protects my heart through the strength that I carry in this deep red liquid substance that runs through my veins. My heart, according to anatomy, science, and technology, pumps this liquid throughout my physical body to keep me alive; this force being the only thing immune to the shield of the Titanium barrier.
Physically, I am alive. But from time to time, I have to pinch myself because I don’t feel it.
Has the armor I created to keep me from harm, be holding me back? Can it be sheltering me, keeping me too safe? Is it restraining me from feeling?
Opening the box or removing the barricade is the simplest solution. But this blocking element has been operative for so long that I don’t know how to detach from it.