We're all born broken

I find myself in a space none too similar than before, yet at the same time very different.
As much as I always manage to piece myself back together, I sit here alone as I've done so for a majority of 30 years, and feel the place that needs to be fixed.
Yet, it never does get fixed.
If it were, would I want to go out and do anything else?
Would I want to search the whole world for the repair kit?
Would I still care to help someone by chasing the answer?
It's being broken that keeps me going. It keeps me longing and wanting, searching. They say, "be careful want you wish for - you might just get it". If we wanted to be fixed, would it be what we thought it was? Would our hearts still be the same, holding the same possibilities for complete passion and enjoyment. That divine love to always remain inside of us. Maybe we only chase the carrot because it's all that's there to do. It serves it's purpose.
I understand what it would mean to be a complete person, as I've felt it.
This is why I will always believe there's a point, and that when it comes time to hang up my shoes, and rest the final rest, the carrot with disappear. I'll no longer need to be broken.