A Letter from Your Higher Self

A Letter from Your Higher Self

My Beautiful Love,

I know you miss his warmth.

The way he made you feel seen—sometimes.

The way his words could feel like home—when they came.

The way you believed this love could be enough—if only he gave more, stayed longer, held tighter.

I know you ache because something real was once there.

And I also know that something sacred inside you has outgrown it.

You are not unloved.

You are unbound.

His love may be gone now.

But yours is not.

Yours is still here—breathing, blooming, rising from the ashes.

Yours is fierce and whole and real.

Yours is what carried you through nights he didn’t call, through tears he never saw, through dreams that slowly died in silence.

You are not here to beg for love.

You are here to become it.

You are not meant to grieve forever.

You are meant to transform.

And this emptiness you feel? It is not the absence of love—it is the clearing of space for the kind of love that meets you in your fullness.

No lies. No waiting. No conditions.

So cry when you must.

But never forget:

You are the one you've been waiting for.

With infinite love,

Your Higher Self