I notice what\u2019s out of place
before I notice what\u2019s whole.
A small tear on your sleeve
pulls my attention
more than the warmth of the coat itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When you speak,
I don\u2019t just hear your words,
I catch the pause,
the slight shake,
the quiet weight behind your voice,
and something in me rushes
to repair it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mind doesn\u2019t rest.
Even when the world is quiet,
even when the city has gone still,
even when the night is deep,
I am awake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At 3 a.m.,
staring at the ceiling,
thinking about something I said years ago,
wishing I could take it back,
rewrite it,
make it softer,
make it right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But life doesn\u2019t work that way.
Still, I try.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You come to me
just needing a moment,
just wanting to sit in your feelings,
and I hand you solutions
like they\u2019re the only language I know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You ask for presence,
I offer plans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You reach for comfort,
I give directions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And somewhere in between,
I miss you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I treat love like something to manage,
like a space that always needs improvement,
like walls that must be checked
for cracks no one else even sees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because deep down,
There\u2019s this quiet fear
I don\u2019t always say out loud,
that if I stop being useful,
If I stop fixing, If I stop holding everything together,
then maybe\u2026 I won\u2019t be needed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And if I\u2019m not needed, do I still belong?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But lately, something is changing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slowly, gently,
in ways I don\u2019t always understand,
I\u2019m learning to sit still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To let things be unfinished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To let people feel
without rushing to clean it up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because not everything broken
needs to be repaired right away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some things just need space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some days are heavy,
you see it everywhere:
people carrying silent battles,
smiles that don\u2019t quite reach the eyes,
lives that look fine on the outside
but feel overwhelming underneath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And maybe the answer
It isn\u2019t always necessary to fix it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe it\u2019s to stay. To listen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To say, \u201cI\u2019m here,\u201d and mean it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m learning to look at you
not as something to solve,
but as someone to understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m learning to face myself
with a little more kindness,
a little less judgment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To stop replaying every mistake
like it\u2019s still happening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To let the past rest
where it belongs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am slowly letting go
of the person I thought I had to be,
the one who always has the answer,
the one who never gets it wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I am meeting
the person I am right now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not perfect. Not finished. Still growing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Still learning. Still trying. I take a breath
and release the weight of
\u201cit should have been different.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I take another and hold on to
what is here, what is real,
What is now? It\u2019s not flawless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But for the first time in a long time, it feels honest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And somehow, that feels like enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The pain of not being seen by love by walking shadow<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/share\/r\/1E39KxN8bB<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n