since yesterday, i’ve felt this word echo in my mind: yearning. it’s not a longing for something to fix me or make me whole, because i know i already am. and yet, the ache lingers, as if my heart has its own rhythm—one that remembers what it means to crave connection, to feel seen, to share the love that’s too vast to stay inside.
i’ve been inspired by kriti sachan’s words recently. in her post about yearning, she writes, “the person you’ve been waiting for isn’t the one who will make life special—it’s the one who will see how special life already is with you in it.” that truth cuts so deeply into what i feel. it’s not about finding someone to complete me. it’s about being with someone who sees me for the whole, flawed, vibrant person i already am.
yearning is a strange and tender thing. it doesn’t always make sense. sometimes it feels like a quiet whisper, and other times, it crashes into me like a wave, leaving me breathless. i’ve spent so many moments trying to understand it, trying to reason with it. but i’ve realized that yearning doesn’t need to be rationalized—it needs to be felt. it’s not a sign of emptiness or lack; it’s proof of the abundance of love and life within me, waiting to flow outward.
there were times when i thought yearning was a weakness, a sign that i wasn’t strong enough to stand on my own. but i see it differently now. to yearn is to be alive. it’s to feel deeply, to hope despite everything, and to carry a quiet belief that there’s something more out there—a connection, a belonging, a sense of being understood.
when i reflect on the moments when yearning felt unbearable—when i kept replaying old conversations in my head, searching for answers that didn’t exist—i realize it wasn’t really about the past. it wasn’t about the person, or the memories, or even the loss. it was about the parts of me that still wanted to be shared, the parts of me that refused to stay quiet.
yearning isn’t just about romantic love. it’s about the human need to share something deeper—to give and receive in a way that feels honest, real, and expansive. it’s about the parts of ourselves that we want someone to notice, the corners of our hearts that crave connection and understanding.
and yet, i’ve also come to understand that not everyone will be able to meet us there. not everyone will be able to hold the love we offer. that’s okay. because yearning isn’t about finding someone to fix us or fill the gaps. it’s about honoring what we already have—the love, the joy, the fullness—and knowing that someday, it will find its way to the right person, the right place, or even the right version of ourselves.
healing doesn’t happen overnight. there are moments when it feels like two steps forward and three steps back. but even in those moments, i remind myself that this ache, this yearning, is not my enemy. it’s a reminder of how deeply i care, how much i have to give, and how much life there is left to live.
i don’t regret the moments i’ve spent yearning. they’ve taught me more about myself than anything else ever could. they’ve shown me that i’m capable of feeling deeply, of loving fiercely, of hoping endlessly. they’ve reminded me that even in my most vulnerable moments, i am still strong.
so here i am, feeling the ache but no longer fearing it. yearning is my reminder that i am alive, that i have something beautiful to share, and that someday, when the time is right, it will find its way back to me.
for now, i’m taking it one step at a time. one step forward, toward healing. toward a new beginning. toward me.
this is so lovely
this is so good