You never really knew me until you sat across from me at coffee on a cloudy day and watched the rain fall from my eyes.
You never really understood me until you let me get past the catch in my throat that’s always there when I sit across from you.
It’s as I listen to your heart through your words that I can make sense of my own feelings, which is why I always pause and let silence stand between us for a long moment before I speak.
It’s when I make sense of my own feelings that I can process yours. Then I can give you the tear-stained wisdom that is chiseled in my soul.
I never really knew you until I sat across from you and realized that we can both as freely give as receive wisdom and love.
And I’d like to know you more.
And I’d like for you to know me more.
But texts don’t form tears, or capture the pitch when you really laugh out loud, or give a full picture of what’s inside a heart.
But it’s all we can do now.
And it’s going to be really hard to give my whole heart again to anyone else when it’s broken but still yours. But it’s going to be hard for anyone else to break my heart when it isn’t really whole because it’s still yours.
I can only let time and silence and steadfast prayer heal me.