Part of it all

You said: "When I read your post I thought you were writing about me." I feel uncovered, a bit ashamed. Have you accompanied my heart for months now. Been holding my hand, shed tears with me, shared your heart your mind, your kindness, your love, without knowing each other in person you gave yourself to me, in support. Sending me music, first thing when I open my eyes, moving me to tears, listening to the sounds of your life. Seeing your face or reading your soothing words that seem to know my heart. 

Your love never confused me. You are always there. Especially when I feel alone. I didn't forget you. No how could I? I'm so grateful that you came into my life, chose to contact me for reasons I never knew and will also not forget your first words. How you saw my energy, how you cherished my heart. You read the stars for me, all the time. Your knew my birthday in your heart, you made the connection. Every morning you wrote me, asking for my well being, starting my day with your heart melody sharing it with me generously. 

"Good writers have two things in common: They prefer to be understood rather than admired; and they do not write for knowing and over-acute readers" You quoted Nietzsche. You read my blog, you compliment me, you touch me, you miss me. You're there. 

You said you loved me without knowing me, you knew enough to see my heart. Connecting to it and not letting it go. Not even in your own struggles. You said it's like you know me forever and I know you do. For this I can't tell you what your open arms mean to me. Sharing your world with me, your dreams. Your kindness is heartbreaking, sharing your tears with me, trusting me in a way only few people can. 

No one has ever told you such strong energetic words about your being you say. I cannot believe this. After everything you said to me. You say when I tell you how much of a gift you are it goes to another dimension. Can you see the reflection? Can you feel that your words do the same for me? Can you feel how all the love you gave to me unknowingly, free like the wind, it travelled from Albania to Germany to Georgia. You are in my country, I am in yours and it didn't end there without meeting in person to look into each other's eyes. You care. You keep caring because this is who you are. You have dreams, you pursue them, you live them. No limitations. You understand that law of limitless potential. 

Maybe this writing has been for you. Maybe your heart knows better. Maybe my soul has been clouded from all the confusion of love and pain brought to me in the past weeks. You were part of every piece I wrote quietly in the background, between the lines through your energy shared. Thank you for being you. Thank you for making this world a better place.