Sometimes words are not enough. They can’t spill over and fill the cracks in your heart. They can’t ooze into your pores with a healing warmth, and patch the holes back together again.
Sometimes only time can do that.
Sometimes actions cannot fix what’s been changed. They can’t cover up what was left aching and cold. They can’t rewind and pull you close, make you forget.
Sometimes only trust and patience, day after day, month after month can do that.
I’m slowly learning that I cannot fix everything that is broken—not my heart, not the words spewed out of my mouth that spark like fire on someone’s skin, not the pain pressed under the surface of another’s smile. I cannot heal what can only be healed by faith and the passage of time. And I cannot mend what I cannot control, which is nothing, when I really think about it.
I’m slowly learning to let go. To forgive what has been done to me. To forgive myself for the ways I have hurt others and my own heart. To smile when I don’t feel like being happy. To stop being so hard on myself.
I’m slowly learning to accept. To trust that there’s a purpose for my pain and a Protector watching over me. To stand firm in my faith, even when I’m spiraling out of control. To take what’s been given to me and learn to work with it, positive or negative. To love the story I’ve been written into, while also writing new beginnings for myself every single day.
I’m slowly learning to let it be. To take deep breaths when I’m faced with conflict, to remind myself that I’m only human, and I will try and fail and still not be any less.
Day by day, I’m learning that it’s okay to not know, to not have a set direction, to not follow a straight line or path. I’m learning that life will bring me obstacles when I least expect them, and how I fight through will determine the woman I become.
I’m learning that hurt gives you courage, that faith gives you a foundation, that closing your eyes and letting life happen gives you peace.
And though every day I fight, every day I push back at this, I know I will be okay.
See, I’m going to try to quiet my mind and let it be—stop overthinking what I cannot control, stop getting anxious over what I do not know or understand, stop wondering about situations that haven’t even happened yet. Stop living with regret, wishing I could have said or did something more.
I cannot predict how the future will unfold, whether a person will love me, how the next minutes or hours or days or years will open up to me. I can only know what is right in front of me—this beautiful, untouched moment—and I must let whatever happens, happen.
I’m learning to let things be. To allow people to feel what they feel without trying to change their thoughts. To let love blossom naturally, instead of trying to encourage or hinder it. To live without always interfering. To pray without expectations. To stop planning the future.
I’m letting fate decide. I’m letting my God sketch out the map. I’m letting my relationships come and go naturally. I’m letting life tell me where I will go and who I will love.
I’m letting it be.