Chapter 10 #2
She wasn’t truly sharing my dreams. She was wearing them like a borrowed coat, something that didn’t quite fit.
She told me she loved me, but love built on pretense is no love at all.
Her deception wasn’t malicious—I believe, in her way, she wanted to be the person she thought I needed.
But by pretending, she not only diminished my dreams, she diminished her own.
It was painful to face the truth. I was halfway in love with the idea of her before I realized we were two people yearning for completely different lives. And so, I let her go.
I won’t say it was easy—letting go of something familiar never is—but I can tell you it was necessary. Only by walking away could we both find the freedom to pursue the lives we were meant to live.
When you speak of your boyfriend, I see echoes of my own story.
I can’t answer for you, but I will ask this: Does he love the woman you are today, with all your wild dreams and burning ambition?
Or does he love the version of you that fits neatly into his world?
Real love doesn’t ask you to shrink yourself.
It doesn’t quiet your voice or stifle your fire.
If I can offer you one piece of wisdom, it is this: Staying with someone who doesn’t see your dreams as a vital part of you will only make the ache for “more” grow louder. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way, but it’s a lesson I’m grateful for all the same.
I hope that my story helps you find clarity, even in the smallest of ways. You have a fierce light inside you, Heart Unheard. Don’t let anyone dim it—not even for love.
With understanding and hope,
A Kindred Spirit
Tears stung the backs of Landry’s eyes as she lowered the paper to her lap.
Nothing in this letter was new.
Every single word, every truth scrawled across the page, was something she had already known deep inside. But seeing it laid out so plainly, in stark black ink, stripped away every excuse, every justification she’d been clinging to.
There was no more pretending.
She liked Chad. He was kind. Steady. Predictable. They had fun together—most of the time. But that had never been enough, had it?
She’d wanted it to be enough.
Because it was easy. Because he wanted her. Because it made sense.
But the truth was glaring and unshakable. Chad was not the man for her.
Chad wanted a woman who fit seamlessly into the life he had planned.
Someone who would be content in GraceTown, working an office job with a 401(k) and two weeks of vacation a year.
A woman who would be happy spending those vacations in places within driving distance, staying in a motel with complimentary breakfast and reliable Wi-Fi.
There wasn’t anything wrong with that life—if that was the life you wanted.
But it wasn’t hers.
And now, she saw it for what it was. Chad didn’t love her. Not really.
He loved the version of her that fit into his world.
He loved the idea of her, not the woman who lay awake at night dreaming of something more. Not the woman who filled notebooks with stories about places she’d never seen, who craved adventure, who ached for something beyond the road he had planned for them.
And that ache… Kindred Spirit had been right about the ache.
It had only grown stronger when she’d tried to shove it into a space too small for it to thrive.
A shaky breath left her lips as she carefully folded the letter, slipping it back into the envelope before burying it deep inside her bag. As if hiding it away might somehow make it easier to deal with.
It wouldn’t.
She already knew what came next.
Her parents wouldn’t understand. She could hear their voices in her head already. Why would you throw away something so good, Landry? Chad is a great guy! You’re lucky to have him!
If they had their way, she and Chad would already be engaged.
Her mother would be calling Hope’s Bridal by morning, setting up appointments for dress fittings, arranging consultations at the Grand Manse.
Her father would see it as a sign that she was finally ready to grow up. He’d start making calls, checking in with his network, finding a nice, stable office job for her so she could put that college degree to good use.
And she would let it happen.
She would smile, nod, go along with it—because that would be easier than fighting.
And little by little, they would convince her.
Their excitement, their certainty, their carefully laid-out future would become hers.
The voice inside her, the fire that pushed her toward more, would slowly be smothered beneath expectations, beneath practicality, until one day, she would wake up and wonder how she had gotten so lost.
Not because of them.
Because of her.
Because she hadn’t fought for what she wanted.
Because she had let herself settle.
Landry clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
No.
She wouldn’t let that happen.
Letting go of the familiar, of someone she was only half in love with, wouldn’t be easy.
But staying would cost her something greater.
For the first time, she was ready to face that truth.