In Gratitude, Waiting

Thank you for the storms that stripped me down to nothing, so I could learn what nothing weighs. Thank you for the losses that hurt enough to make me pay attention, showing me the difference between what I wanted and what I actually needed. Thank you for the people who left. Not bitterness felt, but understanding that staying would only create smaller, sadder versions of both of us. Thank you for the not-so-good stuff, because it turns out you can't have spring without winter first. You can't have blooming without the dormancy. I am learning, not losing. Every ending was a lesson disguised as devastation. Every closed door was just the universe saying "not this way, try again." My heart is full with gratitude for what I have: I am refueling. I am refreshing. I am gathering myself like seeds gathering strength in frozen ground, waiting for the first glimmer of warmth. I am patient now that I know spring always comes, but it comes in its own time, not mine. And while I wait, I am not empty. I am full of gratitude and trust that what's coming will be worth the wait. So thank you for all of it. For teaching me that waiting isn't passive, it's active hope. That winter isn't death, it's transformation. I am here in gratitude waiting. Not with desperation, but with trust. Not with emptiness, but with fullness. Ready for whatever blooms next.