An Open Letter To Women With Warm Hearts, But Cold Hands

image - Flickr / Carmen Jost
image – Flickr / Carmen Jost

I don’t know how you like your coffee on misty mornings. Which rooftop you kick your favorite sneakers off to climb. What haunts your thoughts at night, or what makes your nose crease with laughter. But I do know you – and I know your heart. You are the woman dancing in her car alone in traffic. The woman who runs up stairs and double checks locks before ending every day. The woman curled up under sheets, in the corner of a bed meant for two. I know you because we share the same heart.

We all arrived here through different roads, different highways and different dirt paths. Some of us are bruised. Some of us are spotless. But how we got here doesn’t matter. What matters is the way in which we are united. We are the women who spend our Sunday afternoons alone. The women who treat ourselves to fancy Valentine’s Day dinners. The women who buy ourselves carnations after making mistakes. We are the women who’ve decided to bravely put love on the back burner.

We know we’ll one day be mothers of beautiful children who’ll share the same clusters of freckles on their noses. We know there’ll come a time when we’ll look into someone’s eyes and see a reflection of our dreams. We never for a second, doubt that we deserve all this or that it’ll happen. But we know that now is not that time.

And we accept it, with grace and patience. Couples in black and white romantic movies make us smile without wincing. We sing along to cheesy ballads on radios knowing that one day, every symphony sung will be for one. We go to sleep every night happy no one’s taken our minds hostage. We aren’t waiting. We aren’t still, or frozen with hope. We are in a constant state of motion, dedicating every day to ourselves and the goals our souls ache for.

To the women with warm hearts and cold hands, I hope you know how beautiful you are. And I hope you know to never give up or give in. You may be complacent in your solitude. But in this solitude, is where you’ll find me. Alongside every other woman who stands by knowing, when love should or shouldn’t be. TC mark

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This post originally appeared at Elephant Journal.

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