Most of our feelings are dead or gone but… Mine Are Not 

Imagine feeling sadness that is not even your own or picking up the energies of a fallen world full of broken hearts that have been piling up at your front door the moment you opened your eyes to this earth. Or knowing you should do something but the weight of another hunts you down and your not moving unless they are moving. Or the perfect decision becomes the problem because someone else has not been able to move on from it. Or the perfect relationship becomes the perfect disaster from the past because your ex has not seemed to move on and may never will. Or being told you need glasses but your lenses are made up of little fragments of other people causing you to almost see what they once saw in a light they have never adapted to or simply seeing things they have always skimmed past. Or having to be the “good guy” in disguise because your niceness is rare and is usually taken for granted, mistreated, misunderstood, or mislead.

This is my heart on the exam table, my brain being used for research, my body used as a cadaver, and my thoughts being recorded. Empathy is my first name, highly sensitive is my purpose. I write to fulfill others curiosity, I also write so others can imagine how it feels. To imagine how one feels their way through life, how one feels their way through people without having to know them or their story, how one looks without eyes even having to be open because their emotions are strong enough to see for themselves, how one talks without words, listens with only heart, sees past the mind, understands deep down to the soul. 

I let my heart be my heart, my heart be my brain, my heart be my body, my heart be my emotions, my heart be rock, my heart be my guide, and my heart be my purpose. So, you don’t exactly have to take a walk in my shoes, I’ll write a path for you. 

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