It’s terrifying isn’t it, to feel your heart come back to life. After everything… the disappointments, the silence, the crushing aches. You had almost convinced yourself it was safer this way. Safer not to feel too much. Safer to keep the doors closed. Yet here it is, beating a little louder, a little braver. You catch yourself smiling without bracing for the fall. It feels unfamiliar, this kind of hope, like stepping into sunlight after too many seasons in the dark… your heart was never gone. It was only waiting…
It splits you open, doesn’t it… when your heart dares to move again. You swore it was safer numb and then the first tremor of feeling comes like a wound reopening.
Your heart all along has been waiting for a kind of quiet that doesn’t ache but restore.
Your heart has been waiting for something gentle that does not demand or take but offer presence.
For something that does not ask you to be anything other than whom you are now.
Most of all your heart has been waiting for you to believe again.
To remember that to feel alive isn’t just to endure but to feel.
That love, in whatever form it comes, is not the enemy of pain but the reason you survived it.
