A bitter cold feeling slips in through the cracks where you've broken yourself open in order to share who you are, your desires, the tender parts you're too scared to show to the world...and you're left exposed and shivering when the person you've opened up to walks away. A little more of you breaks off, unrepairable, as you attempt the process of patching yourself back up again. Too many breaks allow the doubts and self-recrimination to slip through, endlessly whispering: you were too easy, too eager, too boring, too stupid and weird, your boobs sag, your belly is too big and ugly, you are too needy, you aren't good enough in any way. It all goes straight to your heart...along with the memories of their beautiful eyes, the way their face lights up when they smile, the way it felt to lay in their arms with your body pressed intimately to theirs...and it rips the sutures out over and over, never allowing you to heal. Then you see them again, and you are glass, your raw pain on display, and you smile while you break and then shatter.
If allowing yourself to be vulnerable to another person has any other outcome, I've never experienced it.