What silence taught me when the world grew too loud.
When Time Paused to Listen
There was a time when waiting felt like loss — when silence seemed cruel and distance unbearable.
But stillness has taught me otherwise. Waiting is not the absence of love; it is its refinement — the quiet labor of remembering what was written before time began.
Perhaps the soul must wander through its own mistakes to learn the difference between recognition and remembrance. I have loved faces that mirrored fragments of “the One,” not realizing they were only echoes — lessons sent to guide me home to what cannot be mistaken.
And sometimes I wonder if he, too, walks beneath the same sky, feeling the same pull — not knowing why every false light fades. Maybe he too is remembering, through longing, the shape of what his soul already knows.
Waiting is no longer tiring; it is sacred work — the kind that prepares the heart not to seek, but to see.
— Donna Gracia Bella