Heart’s Labyrinth: Confession of a Fearful Heart

“Some hearts don’t break—they unfold.” —Elowen

I’ve got to be honest—this scares me. Not you, but what this could mean. What it could awaken. There’s a part of me that still flinches from old wounds, even when no one’s reaching to touch them. I’ve carried things in silence that I can’t always explain. Scars I’ve learned to tuck away behind smiles and small talk.

You’re not them. I know that. And yet, when something feels this good, my mind rushes to remind me how fragile “good” can be. Like if I breathe too hard, it might vanish. Since you showed up, my emotions won’t sit still. It’s like there’s a war inside me—hope clawing at fear, longing arguing with logic.

Elowen once said: the bravest thing a heart can do is stay open while it trembles.

And the worst part? I don’t want it to stop. I want to feel all of it. Messy, trembling, beautiful. So here I am. Not asking for answers. Just asking for space. Patience. Maybe a hand to hold as I make sense of all this noise.

@notesformysoulmate

This work is protected—not to shield the fear, but to honor the courage it took to name it.
Because even trembling truths deserve to be held with reverence.
© 2025 Notesformysoulmate. All rights reserved.

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