As the blazing sun beat down, I dipped my finger in a glass of water and drew a heart on the wooden planks.
At first it glistened in the sunlight--fully formed and intact.
Then it slowly faded.
Little by little, there was less and less before it was finally gone from my sight.
My heart taken away like never being there at all.
It forces me to realize what I no longer have.
That no matter how many hearts I draw on parched wood in the summer sun, they'll all evaporate and can't replace the real thing.