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We live forward but think backward. The present is nothing more than a negotiation with the past and a wager on the future. Somewhere in between, we store moments as if they are possessions—only to learn later that some cannot be revisited or repaired. No theory of relativity has ever yet permitted a person to time travel, so remorse over moments in the past whether missed or endured—is useless. And yet, some things aren’t undone because the universe won’t let you; they’re undone because you let them be.
The words you never said to the person you loved
What if love at its core, is witnessing? What if it's about naming the thing we see in another person?
I'm a big believer that Inside each person is a universe no one else can witness... and to love is to see a corner of that universe and speak its name aloud.
The novelist José Saramago said, “Inside us there is something that has no name—that something is what we are.” Imagine living your whole life and never hearing anyone say what they saw inside you.
Love unsaid is a wound inflicted. It's not a kindness. Ask yourself—who in your life needs to know what they mean to you? Have you told them? Because if you left this life tonight… would they know, or would they only guess? And is guess enough?
Walking away from someone who needed you to stay
There’s a story we tell ourselves about strength: the lone wolf, the self-made success, the person who pulls themselves up by their own bootstraps. We admire independence, but what do we do with need? What do we do with the quiet, desperate hand reaching out?
We often mistake someone's need for weakness—a burden we’re not obligated to carry. We tell ourselves, I’m not strong enough for both of us. But strength is about sharing the weight, not bearing it.
Every person you’ve ever admired was once held up by someone else. Every towering tree began as a fragile seed that needed shelter to survive. We forget this simple truth: needing someone is not a defect; it's how we begin.
Carl Jung wrote, “The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.” To turn away from someone in need is to deny the possibility of that transformation—for both of you.
I just wanna ask: who needed you, and who did you become when you walked away? Did you gain strength… or did you simply lose a chance to become someone better?
The day you put your dream on hold… and never picked It up again
There is a grief that hides itself well. Your dream waited for you longer than any human ever could.
It sat in the corner while you made compromises, smiled at things you didn’t care about, told yourself the season wasn’t right. You promised to return. You swore it was temporary.
You lied.
No clock runs faster than the one counting down the time you have left to become who you are. One day bled into two, then years, until the path back grew over with weeds. And then—whether you admit it or not—you began to rot in the place that was supposed to keep you safe.
So please If it still calls to you, answer now—because nothing kills faster than the belief you can always return later.
The risk you were too afraid to take
Fear does not announce itself as fear. It comes as logic. It tells you to wait until you’re ready, until the stars align. But the stars are never going to align for you. They align for those who move first, who step before the map is drawn. You stay at the edge with your pulse in your ears, feeling every reason not to jump. And you listen to them. You tell yourself that staying put was smart. But what you call safety—time calls burial.
In the years that follow, you won't just lose the prize on the other side. You'll lose the proof that you would have been the kind of person who tried.
Jump while your heart is still loud enough to hear itself. Silence comes for everyone.
Ignoring the voice inside calling you to bow down in gratitude
We are born with a voice inside that knows how to kneel. It knows the exact weight our lives carry, the small mercies that saved us and the silent hands that kept us from breaking. It knows the air in our lungs is borrowed, and that every morning we wake up is a transaction we never earned. But somewhere along the way, we stop hearing it.
We grew fluent in wanting, in measuring what we did not have. We learned how to call blessings normal, as if they were always owed to us. And the voice that would have dropped us to our knees—was drowned out by the noise of our own entitlement.
Gratitude is recognition of reality, you know? It is the sudden knowing that this moment—your beating heart, the roof above you, the people who stayed—is not guaranteed to appear again. But there isn’t all the time in the world.
One day, the person you could have thanked will die.
One day, the place you take for granted will be gone.
One day, the life you wake up to every morning will be over, and you will realize—there is no more bowing, no more saying the words and no more setting things right.
So listen when the voice calls you to your knees. Drop everything and answer. Because the day you run out of chances to be grateful is the day you finally understand how much you had—and by then, it will be too late to tell anyone.
Final Thought
They will tell you to remember these words. But remembering is not enough. Live so that these words remember you.
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