The Box

He arose from his slumber, more like light meditation, he sat on the edge of his cold lonely bed, in a room only illuminated by the alarm clock.
Trying to justify his intentions. On went the lights, into the closet, more so a storage room in the back bedroom he went.
The box was covered with clothes that he no longer used. As he cleared the box top, the dust tickled his nostrils causing two quick sneezes.
He sat on the floor staring at the box that he mentally discarded but physically hid.
He got up, headed to the kitchen, stretched up got the bottle of 1919 and a shot glass. No, he needed a bigger glass.
He poured, paused and poured some more. Swirled it around, smelled it then gulped the drink. Nerves settled somewhat he went back to the box. Cutter in hand he tore into the thick masking tape.
He hesitantly opened it, removing the stuffing to reveal a metal safe on the bottom.
From the bedroom he heads to the dinner table after topping up the glass with some more nerve stabilizer. Another swig passes his lips.
The chain around his neck held the safe key.
As he opens it he expresses very little as he sees the contents.
Knowing that he placed all those pieces there a long time ago. Awaiting the day that he hoped will eventually reach.
He had spent it for years, giving it to any one who showed the least bit of interest in him. But it was used, abused and taken advantage of. Broken, shattered to bits he ripped it out years ago, hid it till now.
He sat there watching at all the pieces, knowing that after all this time of caution and reluctance, he found, certified, doubled and crossed checked their credentials.
He found the one.
The one who will repair, restore, cherish and protect

His Heart.

he.