Listen to Your Heart – A Five Minute Freewrite
My heart tells me she's just using me for beer, which, as an alcoholic, she needs every day.
She also sometimes needs a safe place to sleep, out of the cold and away from the creeps in the drug-infested house where she has a room.
Our relationship is so cliche: I'm 46 and she's 30, and beautiful, and I want a trophy, apparently even if that trophy is drug addled, nearly homeless, and rarely showers.
When she walks down the block, wandering over to my apartment, my heart does somersaults, my soul expands into the stratosphere, the world swirls its rainbow colors.
Yeah, angels sing, I swear to god.
So, if I listen to my heart, what do I do? Cut her off because I'm just being used? Or is the joy of seeing her and being with her worth being used?
Is it hurting me? When there is always the chance, however dim, that she will realize she loves me too?
Listen to my heart. Is it my heart that knows she can't even see me because of the drugs and the alcohol? Or is that just my brain?
She barely knows I'm standing there, on the edge of her chaos. With my hand extended, hoping she'll take it so that I can pull her out of that vortex, and dance with her among the stars.
