With tears in my heart

There are moments when we feel completely lost.

Not because we don't know where to go, but because we no longer have the strength to move.

The feeling of inadequacy flows through us like a thin, continuous current—it settles on our shoulders, stiffens our neck, weighs on our head, and closes in our heart.

It is a pain that does not scream, but which manifests itself in small contractions, in the tensions that the body holds when the soul can no longer release anything.

Sometimes crying helps.

Other times it just seems to drain us even more.

Yet crying is an act of truth: it is the silent admission that something inside us needs to be welcomed, not judged.

I feel the deep regret of not being able to give the happiness I would like, of not being able to offer the serenity that those I love deserve.

I feel fragile, guilty, tired.

I feel the strain of responsibilities, the loneliness that surrounds certain days, the distance that is created even when there is affection.

I wish everything was different, but right now it isn't.

And I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for what I can't give, for what I can't be.

Maybe, though, life is asking me to stop.

To stop looking outside for what I can only find within.

To rebuild my stability, step by step, so that I can then restore light, presence, and love.

I need to start over with myself, even if it means starting over in silence, alone, picking up the puzzle pieces scattered on the floor and putting them back together again—to build and rebuild myself, to find strength and stability.

I don't pretend to be understood.

I only know that, with tears in my heart, I feel that I have to start over from myself.

Because only when we are at peace within, can we truly give peace to others.

Only in this way will I be able to give love again, the true love that comes from a whole heart.

With tears in my heart

Isabel