Hearts and bones and things that break...

Charlie Sheen said "the best way to not get your heart broken, is to pretend you don't have one." I don't buy it. I have a heart. A big one. It gets broken often. And even after all the crap, I'd rather have a heart that is capable of love that gets broken from time to time, than one that is made of stone. I put myself out there, I trust, I hope, I wish, I jump in with both feet, I give it my all, I give my heart to those I feel deserve it, and one day I know I will give it to one who will not throw it away. One who will not break it. One who will understand what it takes to give it, and will give theirs back in return. Sometimes I wonder how wide the line is between strong and jaded. Cutting yourself off is just all to easy. But when does it end? When do you find it? I don't need a knight in shining armor, just a nice man in blue jeans, who can occasionally rescue me from wilder beasts. That's all. But where is the elusive Mr. Right? Where does he reside? Where would I even begin to look for him? Maybe it's just not the right time. Maybe it is only when I have given up the search that I will find my match. Who knows. All I know is I'm tired. I'm tired of looking. I'm tired of perpetually feeling like crap. I have no idea what to do to get out of this funk I have so masterfully gotten myself into. It's not even about a person, or lack there of, it's me. I'm the one who's broken, and unlike everything else, every other situation, I can't fix this. I can't make myself feel better. It doesn't matter what I do. I can't smoke it away, drink it away, eat it away, sleep it away, talk it away, fuck it away, it just never goes away. Never gets better. The pills, the therapy, the daily pushing of myself out of my comfort zone, the trying new things, the going new places, nothing. Nothing works. I'm broke, I'm so fucking tired I could cry, I can't even see the light from hope. I don't quit, ever, but I'm getting close to feeling that I'm out of options, and I'm wondering what the point is. What is the point of an existence that is basically wasting space? I'm simply asking, what is the fucking point?? It either needs to end, or it needs to get better, but either way, something's gotta give