“She didn’t appear suddenly; I let her in.”
It started with a gesture—small, deliberate, but clumsy. I reached out, time and again, but the weight of trying to control everything turned even my best efforts into failures. I thought I could carve paths, force moments, but the more I tried, the more they slipped away.
And then, I stopped. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I let things flow, let her light seep through instead of chasing it. Slowly, the tide carried us, not where I wanted to go but where we needed to be. I began to see not just her but the spaces I’d been blind to all along.