It had been far too long. Much like a flower wilts if not tended to, so does a heart.

Hearts are often associated with love. But there are many other uses for this organ, uses which we often ignore.

Have you ever hurt you toe, and then realized how much you use it? Well, the same thing happens when someone steals your heart. Because you always want what you can't have.

The heart provides many things, blood, compassion, feeling. Things you can never put a price under. Who would ever willingly give up their 'ticker'?

It keeps you going. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

"A second chance…" England whispered.

Why? Why do people give out second chances so willingly? Because they feel nostalgic? Or maybe it's because they trick themselves into thinking people change.

But doesn't practice make perfect? Ugh, this was all too complicated.

Why can't love just be simple?

But…somehow, love is simple. Heartbreak is complicated, crushes are complicated. The sides to the main course. Things to cleanse your pallet, little trinkets spread across the great table of life.

But what silverware should you use? Why on earth were there so many forks? So many choices?

"What would you like to drink, sir?"

Drink? Another choice?

"Would you care for dessert this evening?"

It sounds wonderful, but I'm so full…but what if it were amazing? Would I be missing something?

"England…" America called. "Please…" He sounded broken.

No. The great Nation, the land of the free, home of the brave, this could not be! England could not be responsible for the defeat of the man that killed him long ago. "I-I…."

What happened to the smile? The one he would stare at from afar, filled with bitter feelings like rage. How could America smile like that with France?

Japan…

Italy…

Everyone…

And then he'll look at England, and his eyes will dull. The smile will droop slightly, as if he was holding up a heavy weight…

But he'll carry on, laugh a dry laugh, maybe pick a fight, and that will be that.

But there is never any feeling.

Feeling is for the living, for the blissfully unaware. The ones who do not know hurt like betrayal or betraying. The lucky beings that are able to look at themselves in the mirror and smile.

Not like England.

Not like America.

But for some strange reason, the ones who can barely glance at their shadow pull themselves toward the light, whether they be crawling, dying, crying. Because that light holds the promise of happiness, the happiness that no one can describe.

What makes joy better than sadness? How come we long for it?

Why?

"America…" England chocked. Why do we love? Smile? Laugh? Live.

"I'm so sorry…"

Love is simple. But when it gets mixed in with all those other ingredients of life, it becomes sticky and hard to get off. "O-okay…"

America looked into the darkness, where he could see nothing and everything all at once. "Yes? Yes? YOU'LL GIVE ME A CHANCE?"

And something in that elated tone made England's heart skip a beat—

Heart.

England's heart.

I love you, America.

YAY! Development! ENGLAND KNOWS IT, HOMEDOGS.

He loves America.

CELEBRATION.

Here's a funny quote to lighten the mood:

"I used to be indecisive, but now I'm not so sure."

"A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand"

"We'll be friends until we're old and senile. Then we'll be NEW friends. :)"