Someone once asked me if I write from my heart.
I told him it is a rhetorical question; of course, I write from my heart; where else would I write from.
But he was consonant and told me to look into my heart and see if this is where I write from.
And he got me thinking (not from my heart, but my mind, 'cause that's where you think from), and I thought about the saying "I love you with all my heart."
and it made me wonder why I never heard anyone says, "I write with all my heart."
Is it possible to write from your heart? Isn't it that once you write, you use your mind?
You can break a heart, leave it, destroy it, love it, make it bleed, follow it, open it, make it pound so fast, you can actually feel it in your head, but can you write with your heart?
With that on the table, or on the paper, I'll try now to write from my heart, with all my heart and nothing but it.

I'm writing with my heart.
He (I think it's a male) says he's pretty tired of fighting with my mind.
He knows he had some great triumphs, but he's just not up for the battles that are waiting to come.
I tell him he should shut up cause I kept him from breaking for so many years, as I promised, so he tells me to get over myself and that he can take the heartache (I think he likes talking about himself in the third person).
He says that I'm way too vain to think that I can prevent the pain, but what the fuck does he know. He only broke. I'm the one who had to fix it.
He's a softy, though. He sees I'm pissed off, and he knows how difficult that is to do, so he tells me that he really likes the fact that I dream with my heart
(again, the third person thing).
He says it is very special to dream with your heart and not with your mind and that he feels like a special heart because of that.
He doesn't care that different minds tell him he's delusional, he thinks they are slaves of the routine, and because he's compassionate, he feels a little sorry for them.
But I think he's mad at me because I still prevent him from making decisions. I think he hates to lose. He's a competitive one.
Sometimes, he gets so big that I can actually feel him coming out of my chest, and sometimes he hides so deep that I have to really listen to him in order to hear.

I write from my heart.
Although my mind tells me how to type and what letter to use, though it is just because my heart isn't rational and he cannot figure out how to do it.
He just told me he likes it when I put my hand on him.
It makes him feel like we are close. And he also likes it when I let a guy put his head right next to him and even sometimes right on him,
although he doesn't like the fact that this is the closest I let a guy get. He's just so fucking emotional.

I write from my heart.
The one that always knew it ain't going to be easy, but he also knew he could never go wrong because a heart does not make mistakes.
He gathers experiences and feels them. With all his glory. With all his shame. With all he got.
And you might be surprised that he does have a rational side; he also learns from them, and he grows, not to be better, but to be wiser.
My heart tells me to write that he's very smart. I think I hear my mind laughing out loud in my head, but he's used to that; I don't think he pays attention anymore.
He just asked me to open him a little.
He tells me not to be afraid and that he will guard me. That's funny coming from him, considering the fact that I'm spending my time guarding him.
I'm having a hard time believing him. He has a concise memory, unlike my mind, who actually remembers everything.
I think it's his job, though, forgetting, because if he were like the mind, he would never feel again, just because the memory of him hurting would be too painful to re-live.
Some may call him naive. I think he's just optimistic.

I'm writing from my heart. With him. Just him and me.
I promised him that from now on, I'm going to listen to him more often.
As it turns out, he has really smart things to say.