The torment of a person who stutterers is their soul is wanting to dance but waits in silence to hear their music to begin...and waits...and waits, but even when starts, it will never in time.

Looking for more life with every heartbeat, I find song and emotion to be paths with heart. My first time to gather with fellow lovers of guitar music, playing and singing. I felt something stirring in my soul that later was told its called joy. Never knew that and never experienced it before. This is a path with heart. Taking improv classes learning to act without thinking with emotion,  again going to that same experience I'm told is joy. This is a path with heart.

I love women. Their shapes, their softness, their beauty, their strength attracts my complete attention. I am drawn to all and wish to connect to each, but I am a foreigner in their land. I am a guest often without an invitation. I can't resist the allure and never do. No matter how charming or inviting I make myself those I desire the most are uninterested. So, at best I make myself ready, willing and able for there may come that blissful day when the one, the special one, opens the door to my heart and walks in.

It has been a long prison sentence that I have been serving in torment of being afraid to speak. Those of us who stutter long for the day we can escape this malicious captor that is there watching listening for every sound we utter. Our meals of shame, embarrassment, self hatred, and isolation feeds not our spirit but the monster within. No known cause and no known cure is the best the experts give us. Daily, I ask God the question "How then shall I live".

It is the harmony of our voices that transforms the experience of our song into a magical, glorious encounter.

Too naive I guess. I thought 10 months ago that moving on to my future safely without you just required
I forgive you.  
I've learned that the decision to forgive is no where near strong enough to compete with the pain of the heart.  
"the heart wants what the heart wants."
You are gone and my mind has created an illusion of you that doesn't exist and probably never did -
I live with images and strong emotions of this illusion.
I wonder if for matters of the heart for every second of bliss  - we get a second of dispair.

The cardiologist said it was a heart attack.
So for the past three weeks since this episode,  I have gone into the outer limits of my existence.
Often pondering my mortality. I find myself lost in thought at the most inconvenient times.
What would not-being-alive be like?
My heart would quit beating. No blood flowing to my body.
One by one organs and tissue would die. My brain would stop receiving signals
from my eyes, my ears, my touch.
With no brain activity, would I still have thought?
If so, what would I think about if I was no longer receiving information from my senses?
But one day - all this will happen, sooner or later.
I am choosing the later regardless.