A Bleeding Heart

Today's story is from the pages of a book, covered in dust, hidden away in the archives of Stephen's library. Hidden amongst other books covered in cobwebs, it is a book not often shared or even read by its author. It doesn't make for a good bedtime story nor would it ever make the Bestsellers list, but if your interest has been peaked, sit back, get comfortable, while I rummage through the pages. Ages ago, way, way back almost to the beginning of time when man first began to walk upright is where the story begins. Well, OK, maybe not that far back, but some days my old bones feel as if they were around when the dinosaurs roamed the land, when creatures other than man ruled the world but for the sake of time let's fast forward a few years. The once crisp white pages have now aged, yellowed, the ink faded with the passing of time, some passages barely illegible, somewhat like a memory, bits remembered, bits forgotten. Thumbing through the pages, eyes briefly, quickly reading a few of the faded words as page after page falls upon one another, one passage catches my eye. I stop, I read the words, so long ago written. How could it be? I had forgotten all about this, somehow, somewhere, all that was, was lost in the blackness of forgetfulness. A chill runs down the spine and I shutter to think, wonder, is this what happens? Is it this easy to forget, to put aside hopes and dreams, to allow them to wither away, to die with the passing of time..............

Someday, I will listen to my heart, I will hear more than its beating, I will follow where it leads me. I promise, someday, I will live for me. What has happened, has happened, I can't change it, this I must realize, accept. I did what was expected, I did the right thing, but now I know they were your expectations, what was right for you. I do not place blame, no fault do I lay at your feet. You did, we did this together, certain things were not discussed, certain things were just not accepted. The footsteps in the sand were yours and I walked in them as a young boy, but now this man must make his own and I must remember as this man, I must allow the next young boy to make his own footprints in the sand. I will take his hand, he will walk beside me, this I promise. I pray, his footsteps will be led by his heart, not by his mind. I promise, the same mistakes will not be made. But for now, I will walk in your footsteps, I will do the right thing, I will listen only to the beats of a bleeding heart, but one day...........I promise, I will live for Stephen.

Book in hand, I pause, I sit there..................

The silence is interrupted only by the beating sound of a bleeding heart............