My Heart Speaks (standard:drama, 794 words)
Author: Lori	Added: May 03 2004	Views/Reads: 3544/2302	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
On a beautiful spring day a woman has a chat with her heart. Does she listen? Or does she chose to ignore what her heart has to say? Feedback is always appreciated.

My Heart Speaks 

By: cowgirl_11 

We've determined that everyone has internal dialogue in the forum. This
is a little taste of what mine is like. 
_____________________________________________________________ 

I enjoy the fresh sunshine, watching the dogs chase one another. I feel
the wind in my hair, on my face, kissing me with its sweet springtime 
breath. I try everything to ignore her it's impossible. She's here for 
a reason; I don't have a clue what it is. 

"Can I ask you a questions?" I ask point blank, no sense beating around
the bush. 

"Are you talking to me?" she leans against the tree pretending not to
notice me. It's a move to aggravate me she does it. 

"Yes." I get nervous, look around to see if any neighbors are watching.
"What do you want?" I whisper. 

"I want you to acknowledge me." 

"What does that mean? I‘m talking to you, aren‘t I?" I want to know what
she wants from me. “How else am I to acknowledge you? Do you want me to 
turn tricks? Stand on my head, do a cartwheel or two?” 

"What do you want most in the world?" Now look who's being blunt, like
she doesn't know the answer. She lives in my brain for Christ's sake, 
she knows better than I do. 

"To love again, be respect, I guess." 

"Then why are you hiding me?" she walks over to sit next to me. I don't
want to touch her; something about her makes me afraid. I'm scared to 
breath, speak, everything. 

“Oh, God, what do I do?” I pray in my head. 

“I'm not hiding you!” I say scooting over a bit. “I don't know what
you're talking about!” 

“Yes, you do.” she moves closer, I can feel something happening. For
once, I'm going to be brave when facing the unknown. 

“What does that have to do with what I want?” I pray for guidance to
face this woman, to face myself. 

“Don't you understand if you want those things, you have to give those
things?” she reaches over to touch me. I feel love wash over me, I get 
teary eyed. Never has anything felt so peaceful, been so beautiful, 
than her touch. 

“I do give those things, in my writing.” The tears start to flow, my
soul cries. I feel exposed; God knows I hate to cry! It's makes me feel 
small, weak. “I'm not weak, I'm strong!” I hear myself say to no one in 
particular. 

“To give it back, you have to have it first.” she takes me in her arms.
Not remember the last time someone held me, I cry harder. It doesn't 
take me long to let it all out. 

“Feel better?” she turns loose of me, I feel so alone! I want her to
take me back in her arms. 

“Yes.” Looking up, at this beautiful woman, I wonder what I did to
deserve her. “I have so many questions.” 

“Which one is the most important?” She gets up, backs away from me. She
seems to be in a rush to leave. 

“If I'm suppose to give it back, how do I do that?” I say in a rush to
speed things up. 



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