There is a finite number of times a person can give their heart to another. In most instances, the heart gets returned a little worn or worse for wear. You mend it, hold it close, and then lend it out again. At some point, what you get back doesn’t resemble what you gave out. In essence, your heart is never returned. You continue with your life, with a void within, and without a heart to give anymore. Sometimes it’s a blessing because had you had it back, you would live in fear of it disintegrating with one more use.
Some give their hearts wholly to another for safekeeping, to return to them one day. It’s a choice. One day, far down the road, after they have gone through life with others, meaningless relationships, and grown, only to feel the defibrillation of rekindling and become whole with their heart again, with the keeper of their heart.