Sometimes my words bite. At other times, I pray they bring comfort to a sad heart. A smile to whoever might need some cheer. A soothing word for the person angry at life. I give thanks every day I see my words form stories I don’t know were in me. I have loved so strongly in this life, and I have done my best to write about that love. I also write about the love I imagine a man can share with a woman. I imagine I lay warm and nestled in my woman’s arms, keeping the chilly night air out of our embrace. Sometimes I embellish how I want to love a woman, and at other times, love is so exquisite my words will never do it justice. Sometimes my heart hurts in pain because some people don’t know the magic of love. The magic of feeling something so many writers have tried to put into words. A Magic that leaves me in tears one moment, and the next, I am bewildered by the lost conscience of emotions. I dance in my dreams, wrapped in love, then cower in a dark corner, wondering why I drift alone in a world devoid of comfort. Sometimes words are weapons, and we must learn to say that no matter what the disagreement, no harsh word spoken will ever stand stronger than the love I have for you, whoever that “You”
is in your life. For those who are not writers, I pray your heart is kind and loud, expressing how you feel. I pray you are lucky enough to hear your heart when it speaks. To have never known love is a walking death that is a harrowing and hollow life, but it is far worse to sit in silence and long for the magic that was, or could have been.