What You Didn’t Know

What you didn’t know,
what was never said out loud,
is that prayers were spoken,
prayers for strength to rise again.
You appeared in a time of darkness.
And what you didn’t know…
is that your presence became air,
for someone who was gasping for breath.

A fire burning
slowly,
fiercely,
brightly.
Embers flying deep into the night,
as conversations kept going;
smoothly,
naturally,
effortlessly,
as if no time had passed.
And before anyone knew it,
night turned to dawn.
Light and color glistened through the window,
hues of orange, red, and yellow,
bringing warmth back into a room,
that had,
for a long time felt cold and dim…

What you didn’t know was,
you brought back the light.
You made the world turn to color again,
when everything had faded into black and white.
What you didn’t know was,
you sparked hope;
something to look forward to,
something longed for,
and quietly prayed for.

A friendship.
A bond.
One that years and distance couldn’t break.
A closeness between two people,
each carrying different kinds of pain.
There was a wish
to take your heaviness
and make you feel whole again…
the same way you unknowingly restored strength in another.

The memory of you approaching
still lingers.
Steps were taken back.
You didn’t chase,
not in your nature,
and there was nothing to be blamed for.
No chase was ever asked for.
There’s a wish that time could rewind…
that fear wouldn’t have stepped in.
Fear of hurt,
fear built from years of distrust.

Yet still,
you noticed.
in the pain,
in the silence,
in the moments where walls stood tall,
you noticed.
And that mattered.
It always did.

Apologies drift in the story’s margins
for stepping back,
for letting fear speak louder than truth.
Maybe the story would have unfolded differently.
Maybe the chapters would have held something unexpected.
But time can’t be rewound.
Pages can’t be rewritten.

Still…
when you reached out again,
after all those years,
hope stirred.
Paths crossed once more,
each person facing their own mountains,
their own battles.
The friendship grew.
Personalities clashed at times.
There were moments of hurt,
moments of comfort,
moments of blunt honesty,
moments of irritation.
Yet through it all,
you remained anchors for each other.

And through it all,
none of it mattered in a negative way.
The mystery remained,
the unpredictability added excitement,
conversations overflowed with depth,
and the dynamic always stayed real.

Strength began to rebuild.
Confidence returned.
Boundaries formed.
A voice rose.
For the first time in a long time,
the heart beat stronger, steadier.
And even through sensitivities,
and old insecurities,
a new lesson had taken root…
that it’s okay to be cold sometimes,
to be direct…
especially toward those
who abused your softness.

Softness had been taken for granted
by the world too many times.
But you brought out a new side…
a side that now pushes back,
a side that stands firm,
and one that no longer slips in the sand.

You both stood there once,
in the sand,
watching the waves collide,
the tide reaching closer and closer.
Normally sand shifts,
naturally making one’s footing unstable…
but somehow,
stability remained.
The moon and stars shone down,
their reflections rippling across the water.
In that moment,
safety was felt.
as well as security and strength.

Walls lowered.
Not for love,
but for truth.
Not for romance,
but for connection.

Gratitude remains.
Gratitude that God allowed your paths
to cross again,
at a time when encouragement
was desperately needed.
Gratitude for the friendship,
that should have formed long ago
but finally arrived
when timing aligned.

Your resilience,
your fire,
your determination
rekindled strength in another.
You helped bring back resilience in a person
that had been worn thin.

Now you both walk separate paths,
each chasing different dreams,
writing your own different stories.
But what you don’t know is this,
the friendship you offered…
one that was raw, imperfect, and unexpected,
was exactly what God knew was needed.

So thank you,
for the strength you brought,
for the grounding you offered,
and for helping another rise again. ‪♡

Copyright © 2025 Angela J. Stout.