Soft Hearts, Sharp Timing

In the words of Michael Scott... "This ones gonna hurt like a mother f**ker"

Some people don’t enter your life to stay they enter to remind you what your heart is capable of.

There are connections that aren’t casual, no matter how short they are. They arrive quietly, like a shift in the weather.

You meet someone and something inside you says, oh there you are.

And for a moment, it feels like timing isn’t real. Like maybe the universe finally aligned instead of playing its usual cosmic jokes.

You’re met with a mirror, a person who truly sees you.

But sometimes the most meaningful people are the ones who can’t stay.
Not because they didn’t feel it too, but because life got to them first.
Because they’re still stitching themselves back together from things they never asked to carry, didn’t deserve to go through but have left marks on their internal pages.

Caring for someone who has healing to do is complicated. Not dramatic, not tragic, just tender in a way that hurts. You see their softness under all the armour. You see who they are beneath the survival instincts. And you know they’re trying, trying to trust, trying to believe in something gentle.

But you also learn that trying isn’t always enough. Sometimes two people meet at the wrong chapter of the same book. One ready to begin, one still learning how to turn the page after a heartbreak that ripped them in two, the lover & the fighter.

And letting go doesn’t always feel like release sometimes it feels like reverence, a quiet heartbreak of the idea of potential. A quiet honouring of where they are, not where you wish they could be.

There’s a certain kind of bravery in not clinging. In not rushing someone’s healing just because you can see the person they’re becoming. In believing that what you felt was real, even if it wasn’t meant to be kept - I’m honestly learning this the hard way.

Some connections don’t need to turn into a lifetime to be meaningful. Some people aren’t lessons or mistakes, they’re just moments that mattered.

Beautiful because they were brief. Sacred because they weren’t ready.

And if life is generous, truly generous maybe paths cross again when the timing isn’t fragile. When healing isn’t a battlefield, but a memory that turned you into the version that allows someone in again.

But if not, that’s okay too. Because caring for someone and letting them go before the story rots, before you both harden, that’s a kind of maturity most people never learn.

Some souls don’t stay but they still leave you softer.
Wider open.
More alive to what your heart can hold.

And that is it’s own kind of forever.

In honour of the almosts that mattered. See you next week.