There was a time when she felt like a paused sentence—words within her, all waiting for their turn to speak. Every day felt like a repetition, like a scene in a movie that had been played over and over, with no newscript to offer. The minutes dragged on, heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts, and every night felt like a quiet ache that didn’t know how to ask for peace. It wasn’t the kind of ache that screamed for attention; it was the kind that lingered quietly, like a distant hum that never fully fades. She knew something was missing, but she couldn’t name it. She couldn’t find the words, couldn’t make sense of the void she felt deep inside.

She wasn’t broken, though. Not in the way she thought she might be. She wasn’t shattered into pieces, nor was she irreparably lost. She was simply… waiting. Waiting for life to soften around her, to reveal something more than the rigid silence of her thoughts. Waiting for the right person or the right moment to spark her back to life. She needed something to remind her that even in the stillness, there was purpose. Even when she felt like she wasn’t moving, something was happening beneath the surface, something that could eventually carry her forward.

She needed someone who could show her that stillness wasn’t a curse; it was part of the process of becoming. But life, like it often does, didn’t offer answers in the way she expected. The moment she was waiting for didn’t arrive with fireworks or bold declarations of love. There were no signs from the heavens, no grand gestures to mark the turning of her page. Instead, the one who would help her heal came quietly, like a gentle whisper in the middle of a storm. He didn’t try to fix her—he didn’t feel the need to. She wasn’t broken, after all. She was simply caught in a chapter of her life that required more time to unfold.

He didn’t rush her or pressure her to find all the answers. He simply sat beside her, in the silence, and said the words she hadn’t known she needed to hear: "You don’t have to do this alone anymore." It wasn’t a promise to fix her pain or make everything better. It was an acknowledgment that she didn’t have to carry the weight of her fears, her doubts, and her insecurities by herself. It was an invitation to let love be the companion she needed, even if it didn’t arrive with a perfect resolution. And that was enough. In that moment, all the pressure to have it all together fell away. She didn’t need to know everything or figure out the next step. She just needed to breathe, and she needed to know that someone else was there, in the quiet, beside her.

He saw the garden in her long before she ever bloomed. He saw the potential she had buried under layers of self-doubt and silence. He saw the love she had for the world, even when it seemed impossible for her to offer that love to herself. He knew that, given time, her silence would give way to words, her stillness would become movement, and her heart would bloom. He didn’t rush her into change. He let her grow at her own pace, trusting that the love he showed her would be the seed she needed to begin blossoming once more.

In loving her softly, in simply being there for her in ways that didn’t demand anything from her, he reminded her of the fire she had buried beneath the ashes of her quiet. He reminded her of the chapters still waiting to be written in her story, and the voice that would carry her forward into new beginnings. He didn’t fix her. He never needed to. He only reminded her that she was never as broken as she thought. That, even in the stillness, there was power. She had always been worthy of love. She had always been deserving of beautiful things. But sometimes, it takes someone else’s belief in us to help us see that for ourselves.

So, if you are reading this now and you feel stuck, if you are feeling like the words inside you are waiting to find their place, I want you to hear this: you are not forgotten. You are not behind. You are simply on a page that needs a little more time. The process of becoming, of healing, is not linear. There is no map that tells you how quickly or slowly you should move forward. The world doesn’t owe you progress at a certain pace. You are allowed to take your time, to sit in the stillness, and to allow life to unfold at its own rhythm.

Maybe the person you are waiting for hasn’t arrived yet. Maybe they haven’t crossed your path in the way you imagined, and you feel like you’re still waiting for someone to show up and sweep you off your feet. Maybe the love you need right now is not the love from another person, but the kind of love you need to give yourself. The kind of love that says, “It’s okay to be where you are. It’s okay to take your time. You are worthy of peace, of gentleness, of understanding.” You don’t have to be anyone else. You don’t have to rush through your story. You don’t have to skip ahead to the chapters that make you uncomfortable. The stillness you’re experiencing is not a punishment. It’s a part of the process of your growth.

Let the quiet shape you. Let it show you the strength you may not even know you have. Let it help you learn to listen to the voice inside you that’s been waiting patiently for your attention. There is wisdom in stillness. There is courage in being present with yourself, even when everything seems uncertain. And when love does come—whether in the form of another person, an opportunity, or simply a deeper sense of self-love—it will remind you of something incredibly important: you were always worthy of beautiful things. Your story is unfolding, even in ways you cannot see yet. And it is beautiful.

With all the hope in the world,
From a heart that believes in new beginnings