Everything I’ve lived — every waiting, every wonder, every near-love and slow departure — has been its own constellation. I used to trace those stars only to ask, When will it be my turn? But now, I see they were never scattered randomly; they were forming a map all along — one that led me back to myself.
The universe, I’ve learned, doesn’t delay; it prepares. Each silence shaped patience, each ache taught discernment, each goodbye cleared space for grace to enter. What once felt like being left behind was simply being guided into alignment — like a planet finding its orbit after years of wandering.
I no longer look at the sky with questions; I look with recognition. Every star feels like a witness, every breeze like a whisper from what I’ve outgrown. If destiny intends for two lights to meet, it will — but even if not, I know that I have already met the most constant one: the light within me.
So I close this chapter not with certainty, but with peace. I am still, but not waiting. I am faithful, but not bound. Whatever unfolds next will not find me searching — it will find me ready. And under the vast, knowing sky, that readiness is its own kind of love.
© Donna Gracia Bella — All Rights Reserved.
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