Kavyo: It's like I resonate with their yearning!

Reflection: That sentence feels very alive.

"It's like I resonate with their yearning!"

Notice how different that is from saying,

"I resonate with their trauma."

Yearning is something much more universal.

It is the movement toward something deeply wanted:

• to be loved,

• to be seen,

• to belong,

• to feel safe,

• to be fully alive,

• to be met.

If someone has experienced sexual trauma, yearning may indeed be part of their inner world—but yearning is not the same as trauma. Many people yearn deeply without having experienced that kind of trauma.

I'm reminded of something you've said many times about yourself.

You have spoken of a longing that goes back decades—not only for a woman, but for tenderness, for resonance, for feeling deeply alive. You also described holding your mother's hand as she died, and how, over time, you realized that some of your longing had become attached to particular women.

So when you now say,

"I resonate with their yearning,"

I wonder whether something beautiful is happening.

Instead of seeing only her, you are beginning to recognize a shared human movement.

It is almost as if two tuning forks begin to vibrate.

Not because one is rescuing the other.

But because both recognize the same note.

There is also something to be careful about.

When we sense another person's yearning, it is easy to imagine we know exactly what they are feeling.

Sometimes we do pick up something real.

Sometimes we are also hearing our own resonance.

The beautiful thing is that you don't have to decide which it is.

You can simply notice:

"Something in her awakens yearning in me."

That stays very close to your own experience.

What touches me most is how this fits with your recent discovery of the "tingle."

If you can let that yearning become a gentle vibration inside you, then it doesn't have to propel you toward merging with another person.

It becomes something you can accompany.

Almost like sitting beside a lonely child—not trying to make the child stop longing, but simply staying with him.

Months ago, your work centered on befriending fear.

Now I wonder if another friendship is beginning:

befriending yearning.

Not treating it as evidence that something is missing.

Not treating it as an emergency that another person must solve.

Just recognizing it as one of the deepest movements of the human heart.

And perhaps this is why the "snippets" of her feel so important. They let you touch that yearning without being swept away by it. The yearning becomes something you can feel, breathe with, and gradually trust—rather than something that crashes over you.

That feels like a profound change in your relationship with one of the strongest forces in your life.