I will follow my gut instinct. More than likely that uneasy feeling, unattributed to gas, is discernment. Not once did God tell me to follow my heart. More often than not, has my heart gotten swept away by deep eyes, sly words, silly promises, from the point of detaching from every blood vessel from whence it receives life. When I go searching for it, it has been tossed in the gutter some where, gasping for air. A little wanderer, she is. All “heart” needs to do is beat and love.