My dear,
I know. I know the silence is so loud now it aches in your bones and every cell of your body.
I know you feel like you’re falling apart in a world that didn’t catch you.
That someone you gave your heart to walked away – or got lost so deeply you can no longer find him.
And that you’re suddenly alone with yourself… not knowing if you can bear it.
That those you loved left you – and you didn’t see it coming.
You lost all the certainties you once leaned on.
Suddenly, you were alone, abandoned, unsure if you could hold it all.
The pain and fear were so real you could barely breathe.
But listen… I hear you. And I’m here.
I am the one being shaped from your pain, your love, your courage, and that terrifying emptiness.
I’m the one who has already walked through it. And I have a message for you:
You made it. Not by force. But with grace. With presence. Step by step.
It wasn’t about grand decisions.
It was about every day you didn’t fall apart, but laid your head on the pillow and breathed.
About every moment you chose calm over chaos.
About every tear you allowed to fall instead of swallowing it.
Yes, there were nights when you fell asleep with a candle beside you instead of him.
But in time… something else arrived.
YOU arrived. Whole. Calm. Radiant in your gentleness.
You knew the greatest strength was to stay with yourself even when the world didn’t hold you.
And so you allowed yourself to be real – just as you’ve always been.
And then… came people who truly saw you.
Opportunities arrived – the kind you didn’t even dare to dream of.
And love… yes, love came too. But not the kind that breaks you.
The kind that lets you breathe.
That’s why I’m writing to you now.
Not to say “hold on.” But to say:
You’re already here. Within me. In everything you’re doing right now.
With every breath, you are creating me.
And I love you – for everything. Even for what you once blamed yourself for.
And for everything you had to let go of.
Stay.
Breathe.
You’re further along than you think.
Your Self –
the one who knows silence is also a voice.
And that loneliness is sometimes the first step toward freedom. 🤍