Stubborness. (move)

I told my heart it was time for a change, but it stubbornly refused to change its ways. I walked around with the wretched stone inside of me, slowly dropping inch by inch, hardening by the minute. It momentarily softened up when joy decided to brush up against it, trying to give some life, maybe some hope, to that pathetic, damned thing. The moments fled by quickly, and the stone remained. I tried chiseling away at it. The thought crossed my mind that maybe the rock was a layer of protection over my true heart. Not at all. I chiseled the rock down into a little pebble, trying to find out if it was, indeed, protection. I then used the chisel to try and shape what was left into my dreams, my desires, what I wanted my heart to look like. Those have all changed.
I've stared out my window at the snow for too long, wondering how I became like it.