A Letter to Your Soul, Not to Your Ego.

"Click and enjoy the melody while you read me."

I’m writing to you because there are things I want you to know—not so that you act like an idiot, nor so that you respond from your wounded ego. I simply wish to be heard and honored. I’m not here to beg for crumbs of your attention, or to plead for a place in your life.

The lighthearted exchange we had on Instagram... to be honest, I didn’t expect you to reply, or at least not so quickly. I know my message was harsh and direct, but when I saw that reel describing the traits of a “fuckboy,” I thought of you. I told myself it would be freeing and amusing to say what I think and feel about your past actions—actions marked by immaturity and cowardice. By the way, the creator of that reel is a Pisces, just like you. Now that was a true sign from the Universe, don’t you think?

So the playful little girl inside me took the lead, and I allowed myself to be mischievous and say what was on my mind. As for your reply—it made me laugh. I found it amusing. I’ll admit, I shared it with my friends and we laughed together. Not to mock you, but because it seemed like a clumsy attempt to hurt or shame me. I think in English they call that gaslighting, don’t they?

But before going to sleep, I reflected on what you wrote—not the actual words (because they were silly), but the energy and emotion behind them. Daman, it’s no secret to you that I’m a witch, or that I can see beyond words. I can do this because I’m sensitive to other people’s energy and emotions—I can feel hidden pain, sadness, and anger.

Beyond your words, I could sense a fragile, sensitive child who carries deep pain and repressed rage from not being heard, loved, or validated by those he trusted the most—your family, your parents. I sense a man who hides behind sarcasm, avoidance, emotional repression, and control. A man who feels the need to hurt those he perceives as threats, because they can see through the armor and masks.

I say this because, I used to be like that too. If someone hurt me, I would react from my wounded inner child and respond with pain disguised as sarcasm. Seeing the other person wounded by my words gave my ego a false sense of victory, as if I had conquered someone who threatened my pride. For many years, I walked around feeling empty, craving love and acceptance but unable to receive them because I was afraid of being vulnerable. I couldn’t stand others pointing out my wounds, because it hurt to see myself. I didn’t want to admit I was living a lie—that’s why I can see you… and love with compassion.

I feel no shame in admitting that I loved you from the very first moment I saw you three years ago. When I looked into your eyes, my soul leapt, and I just knew: “It’s him, it’s him.” In that moment, I didn’t yet understand what my soul already knew.

Let me tell you what my soul saw in your eyes: a sensitive man, with a big heart, tender, sweet, affectionate, loving… capable of feeling so deeply that, if you listened to your soul, you would have an immense capacity to love and bring light—even to be light for yourself. That’s what my soul saw in you. My heart recognized you from many lifetimes before this one. That’s why I couldn’t help but love you with all my heart. But it wasn’t written that you’d stay in my life. Your brief presence—brief, yet significant—was meant to awaken me to consciousness and spirituality.

Back then, I was still wounded. Deep inside me lived wounds of abandonment, rejection, betrayal, and injustice. Because of the abandonment wound, I was overly accommodating, afraid that people would leave me. That was the first wound that showed up when I met you. That’s why I was the one who reached out, the one holding the fragile thread of communication—agreeing to things I didn’t really want, just to avoid “losing you.”

In my chest, I carried such a deep and unexplainable love that I constantly sought your attention. I believed that if I tried hard enough, you would choose me. But that’s not how soul connections work. You and I are mirror souls (Twin Flames); you reflected my fears, emotional lacks, and wounds… something I’m grateful for, because it gave me the chance to heal through therapy and to meet the medicine woman I came here to embody. But I also reflected back to you everything you find hard to see and admit—because doing so would mean waking up from the illusion you've built your entire life around.

I’ll confess something: I think of you more than I’d like to admit. I see you in my dreams, and although that may be hard to believe, in those dreams your soul speaks to me in many ways—sometimes with words, sometimes with your gaze, and sometimes by simply showing me things. That’s why I know certain things about you, even if in this physical world, we don’t speak and are strangers. Even if, due to ego and circumstances, we can’t communicate or be friends.

The truth is: to my soul, you are precious—but that doesn’t mean I will chase after you, waiting for the day you decide to text me. I expect nothing from you anymore. I used to keep an empty chair in my life—that chair was for you. But not anymore. I no longer wait for a message that never came. I no longer wait to be acknowledged. I don’t expect apologies either. That would only happen if you set aside your pride—and that would mean admitting your actions hurt me. Honestly, it would be unfair of me to keep waiting for a “what if…”

I deserve a man who chooses to be by my side, who offers presence, consistency, and time—things you cannot give me. And I accept that.

I’m saying all of this because I no longer silence my truth. I’m no longer afraid of losing someone who never chose me. I don’t feel ashamed of the love I felt, because for me it was beautiful, transformative… it was real, even if only mine.

I wish one day you could see yourself the way I once saw you. I say this to your soul—not your ego. If only you could understand that you are not what others think of you… because people judge from their own unhealed emotional wounds.

If only you gave yourself permission to feel—to sing what lives in your heart, free from the guilt of “should.” Free from the weight of a culture that imposes what’s expected of you. If you could free yourself from your mother’s control and judgment… because although you love her and want to be the perfect son for her, you never will be. Not because you can’t, but because your mother is wounded and doesn’t know how to love you the way you deserved. She can only love you through her fears (her need to control), stemming from her own pain. Always remember this: You are enough. You don’t need to betray yourself or do things against your will to be loved or respected.

I believe I’ve finally said everything I kept inside for years. I no longer blame you. I don’t hate you. I don’t hold a grudge. Now I know we were never meant to live a “we.” Maybe because of culture, or age, or fear… or maybe because neither of us was ready. Because it had to be that way.

My personal blog is my temple. It’s where I share my heart, and everything I’ve lived since I met you. If one day you wish to know me, you can enter and read the corners of my soul. You are welcome—always—if your soul arrives with respect and reverence.

And if one day you feel curious to ask me something from the heart, you may. I’ll answer with love and peace.

With love,

Melissa -Seladriel

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🌹 Thank you for reading me, for feeling with me, and for honoring your own light and shadow.

Love

Melissa – Seladriel