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My skin is crawling with loss and fear.

A heart I thought I could trust is slipping through my hands.

It hovers close, so close, to the ground that it could meet the earth and be destroyed in a second.

Was I naïve to think this could never happen? Or just too trusting—too blind to see truth played out right in front of me?

My own heart is whispering gentle words, but I am too afraid to listen. If I do, the shape of my world will change in a moment.

All I know will fall around me—broken into pieces.

I’m afraid.

The urge to blame myself for all this chaos is overwhelming.

My ego voice is strong, chattering in my head. “Punish yourself,” it says. “It’s all because of you—because of who you are,” it says.

It hurts.

Yet, somewhere in the distance, a far, far away knowing pushes me toward a tiny spec of stardust; it’s glinting shyly in the dark.

“You are a warrior,” it whispers, almost imperceptibly.

“You are a warrior of love, of truth, of soul-honoring awareness.

Use this love. Honor this love. Be the truth amongst the pain. Be the warrior you are (and always will be).”

I listen. Maybe for the first time.

I listen.