The Person I Have Been Waiting for is Myself

In the quiet spaces

between the heartbeats,

I searched the mirror

for the reflection

of someone I could believe in,

a figure wrapped in dreams,

dancing through shadows,

shimmering with promise. 

I waited for whispers of assurance,

for the soft landing of footsteps

that felt like home,

the person who would arrive

with open arms,

ready to heal the fractures

I wore like badges. 

I chased after flickers of hope,

eager to find a savior,

painting my worth

with the colors of others—

their laughter, their kindness,

their bravery,

as if I were a canvas,

waiting for brushstrokes

to fill my emptiness. 

But in the hushed corners,

the stillness enveloped me,

and a voice,

a gentle echo of my soul,

began to rise,

saying, "You are the one

you have been seeking. "

It wasn’t wrapped in bright ribbons,

nor did it come with a grand entrance. 

It was the whisper of the wind,

the soft glow of the dawn,

the stillness of the night,

a flicker of light within. 

The person I have been waiting for

is the courage in my heart,

the laughter in my throat,

the tears that cleanse,

the scars that tell a story

of resilience, of strength,

of every moment lived

and every dream pushed forth. 

So I stand now,

not as a reflection of others,

but as a tapestry

woven from my own threads,

vibrant and unyielding,

every color a testament

to the journey of becoming,

the boldness of stepping into

my own skin. 

I am the bridge

between the past and the endless skies,

the weight of history

lightened by the promise of tomorrow,

and in this moment,

I realize

the person I have been waiting for

is exactly who I am,

unfolding beneath the stars,

as the universe breathes my name. 

I embrace the flaws,

the imperfect notes of my melody,

the awkward dance of my being

as I take this first step,

celebrating the rhythm

of my existence,

the ebb and flow,

the rise and fall

of my spirit daring to be free. 

So here I stand,

with open arms and an open heart,

ready to welcome myself,

to love the raw and the real,

the dreams I once tucked away,

the hopes I’ll paint anew. 

In every heartbeat,

in every sigh,

I am home,

and the waiting dissolves

as I take this breath,

this life,

this moment of becoming—

for the person I have been waiting for

is myself,

standing strong

in the light of my own creation.