Different Kinds of Hearts

The following is merely a metaphor for few specific patterns in how some people behave when relating to others around them, be it friends, acquaintances, a date, or a family member.  All hearts were made to connect with other hearts.  The term "bonding" is used by psychiatric health professionals, but for this segment let's view hearts as having open communication channels with one another, which can be closed or disconnected at any time by either user.  It is as if each heart possesses several internet connections, and they sense and talk to the other hearts around them via a sort of cerebral and emotional wi-fi.

Otherwise known as softie, a soft hearted person feels everything, both sorrows and joys, more than the rest of us. They are extremely sensitive. They can be good to have around because they make other people feel safe. Their weakness is that they almost never disconnect from other hearts. When they do disconnect, they bleed profusely, whether that breakup was their idea or the other person's (usually the other person's). For their own good, however, they should learn to disconnect voluntarily if and when it's necessary so they don't allow other people to take advantage of their soft-heartedness.  All too often pillow hearts put up with anything and everything, which is unhealthy in any relationship.

The tomato has a somewhat tough outer layer like the skin of said vegetable. It resists some pressures, but not all. A tomato personality disconnects more readily from others, but only when it's really necessary and justified. Otherwise you'll find the tomato a really good companion who says and means no from time to time but who, underneath the exterior, has a good and wholesome heart.

Their main weakness is that when they do experience a sorrow that's strong enough to shake them, they are often slow to recover. Metaphorically speaking, once you break open a tomato, the contents spill out and stain whatever's around it. Only with great difficulty can you get things back to normal again.

Crusties can be bristly and contrary upon first examination, but a skilled observer will realize that crusties all possess soft hearts. Their hearts are protected by an exterior crust like a rough, thin layer of concrete. But a skilled person of bold and persistent personality can get past it with a little determination, and once you do you will find a levelheaded, soft hearted human being in the layers beneath.

The crusty's weakness? I haven't found one yet. They seem more than willing to disconnect if someone's behavior turns sour, and less than willing to connect hearts with just anybody, which seems wise in today's world.  They don't actively seek attention, and they make others work at it and earn their trust.

The stone heart is as hard as they come. They rarely connect with anybody. Instead, they allow others to connect with them while they remain uninvolved and uncaring. They get what they can from everyone else, whether that involves personal needs, companionship, food, transportation, or social perks. At a moment's notice, however, they can be off and running again as though the person or persons who cared about them had never existed. Indeed, they disconnect from anyone and everyone for no reason whatsoever, as long as doing so suits their fancy or meets their own needs.

The stone heart's weakness is that it is dry, dead, and dark. It never has enough and is never satisfied, because it is closed to all that is real and wonderful in this life. Like a form of relationship Scrooge, the stone heart keeps everything and gives nothing.

When a pillow makes friends with a stone heart the results are disastrous, because the pillow ends up getting hurt and the stone heart feels no pain whatsoever.  Unfortunately, people don't go around with heart labels on their foreheads for all to read, so it's difficult for the young and inexperienced to discern one type from another.  Two tomatoes can be good friends with relative ease.  Two pillows will accidentally hurt one another's feelings too often, and a pillow almost never has the gumption to make friends with a crusty.  If they do by chance become friends, the crusty must make sure not to be too crusty around a pillow heart, and the pillow must try to be less sensitive to the a crusty's natural gruffness.

Two stones and sparks will fly.  They can never get along.  In fact, the stone hearts aren't good for much unless some miracle changes their lives and removes their nonliving stoniness, as in the novel by Dickens.  Of course, there's some debate whether Scrooge was a real stone or had only developed a very thick crust which disguised a real and living heart.  His experiences as a boy changed him into someone who desired money because he desired safety and freedom, and his desire ran away with him and turned his head from all that was real and beneficial.  He could only care for the money because it was the only friend that never hurt him, but here's the thing: without risk we do not live.  If we shut ourselves up in a prison away from others, a prison it will be to us, and we will lose our capacity day by day as we fail to interact as God and nature intended.  It's food for thought.