Meant to be? (The signs?)

That which comes, let it come. That which goes, let it go. What remains, let it be.

This eastern teaching captures the very essence of all relationships—impermanent, transient, and often misunderstood as fate. In truth, relationships are not always destiny; they are often profound tests of our attachment. Many people spend years drowning in emotional storms, trying to force permanence out of something that was only ever meant to pass through. But the wise observe. The wise read signs. The wise let go.

The illusion that two people are destined to be together is often rooted in a longing for stability, love, and security. But not every connection is meant for forever. Sometimes, two souls meet not to stay, but to teach. And the lesson may come through suffering, silence, or solitude—but it is still sacred.  

“When you see a cloud rising in the west, immediately you say, ‘It’s going to rain,’ and it does... You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky. How is it that you don't know how to interpret this present time?” — Luke 12:54-56

The Buddha taught that attachment is the root of all suffering. Often, in clinging to someone who is not aligned with our path, we drift away from our own.

Jesus had the same instruction:

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”— Matthew 6:19–21 (ESV)

True peace doesn't come from holding on, but from recognizing the signs that a path has reached its end. This is a silent journey, where awareness unfolds not through loud declarations, but through quiet signs—gentle, undeniable, echoing truth. If two souls are not meant to be together, there are signs. You will see them.

The Arrival Without Harmony

He came like a season—unexpected, yet familiar. She responded like the earth—open, welcoming, yet unsure of what would follow. At first, it felt like the universe had orchestrated something divine. Words flowed like rivers. Eyes spoke without sentences. Their presence felt sacred. And yet, beneath the beauty of that first bloom, something essential was missing. Not in action, but in essence. There was no stillness. The silence between them wasn’t peaceful—it was hollow. Their conversations, though frequent, often missed each other’s hearts. Every laugh carried a whisper of loneliness.

Eastern philosophy teaches that true connection is not known through words, but through the silence that surrounds them. When two souls are aligned, their shared silence feels like home—soft, nourishing. But when misaligned, even silence becomes noisy, anxious. She began to notice this: even during deep conversations, she felt unheard—not because he wasn’t listening, but because he could not see her soul.

When Time Exposes What Chemistry Concealed

“When the fog of passion fades, truth begins to speak.” Days turned to months. Familiarity grew. Yet, instead of deeper unity, there was growing misalignment. What once felt like beautiful differences now became sources of conflict. What once was compromise began to feel like sacrifice. Effort became a struggle, not devotion.

When love is real, effort feels natural. You give not to earn, but because love flows freely. But in a misaligned union, every gesture becomes transactional. You give and expect. You adjust and lose yourself. You suppress and feel unseen. He asked her to change in ways that made her shrink. She asked for understanding and received logic instead of empathy. Arguments became patterns. Resolutions became pauses between the next conflict. Yet still, she clung to the idea of “them.”

Faith urges stillness: do not hold on to what something could be if it brings suffering in what it is. One night, she sat in front of him, watching his eyes drift away. He was present, but not truly there. His words had lost meaning. He asked about her day out of duty. She smiled out of habit.

You Feel More Lonely With Them Than Without Them

Loneliness is not the absence of people—it is the absence of connection. You can be surrounded and still feel forsaken. Sometimes, being with the wrong person deepens loneliness more than solitude ever could. She noticed her laughter grew louder in his absence. Her peace more consistent when he was away. And when she cried, she stopped expecting comfort from him—because it never came.

If their presence adds weight, why are you afraid of their absence?

Your Inner Voice Begins to Speak Louder Than Their Words

The soul knows long before the mind accepts. One night, in meditation, she sat in stillness. The question arose—not in words, but in emotion: Why are you staying in something that no longer breathes life into you? In misaligned relationships, the inner voice grows louder—not quieter. It questions. It mourns. It becomes restless. This voice is not confusion; it is clarity pushing through the fog of attachment.

She saw how she had ignored her intuition. How she mistook comfort for love. How she feared starting over more than she feared slowly dying in something untrue. Zen reflects:

“The first betrayal is never from the other—it is from the self that stays in what it knows is wrong.”

When You Become the Only One Holding On

Eventually, she noticed he had stopped trying—not from cruelty, but because he sensed the truth too. They were rowing a boat in opposite directions. The current between them was one of resistance, not flow.

One of You Stops Participating Emotionally

If living in Harmony, connection is shared giving—not always equal, but mutual. When one becomes the gardener and the other only receives the bloom, balance collapses. He no longer asked deep questions. She no longer expected him to. He no longer held space for her storms. She no longer shared them. Their bond had become routine. Actors in a play they no longer believed in.

She realized: If I left today, he wouldn’t chase. If he left, I wouldn’t beg.

“When you have to convince someone to stay, they have already gone.”

The Quiet Realization

The end didn’t come with a fight. It came quietly. One morning, she looked at him and felt only peace—not the peace of reunion, but the peace of release. No blame. No bitterness. Just understanding.

You Finally Feel Peace at the Thought of Letting Go

This is the truest sign. Not anger. Not sadness. But calm. The storm ends. The mind no longer asks “what if?” The heart no longer pleads “please stay.” Only clarity remains.

Peace to your soul comes upon the realization that you no longer need them to be yours in order to feel whole. She left, not because she hated him, but because she loved herself enough to stop hurting. In walking away, she didn’t break the bond—she completed it.

These Signs Are Not Punishments—They Are Divine Order in Motion

Every misaligned connection is a mirror revealing our wounds, our fears, and our strength. To be “not meant to be together” is not failure—it is graduation. The lesson is complete. The soul is ready.

Dr. Wayne Dyer taught the need for “presence”. And presence allows you to see things as they are, not as you wish them to be.

So when silence feels hollow, effort feels like sacrifice, presence deepens loneliness, your inner voice grows louder, and peace comes at the thought of leaving—know this: it is not the death of love. It is the birth of truth. And in truth, there is always liberation.

The Silence That Does Not Embrace

When the silence between two people becomes uncomfortable, it is the soul’s whisper that something is missing. The greatest measure of harmony is not in how well we speak, but in how well we exist together in silence.

In true connection, silence is like sacred still water. It reflects peace, comfort, and mutual understanding. But when that silence turns restless, awkward, or heavy, it reveals a misalignment of spirit. Ask yourself: Can I sit in stillness with them and feel more understood than when I speak? If not, the silence is no longer sacred. It becomes a quiet cry for help—an indicator that true soul contact has never truly been made.

When silence feels like a void instead of a sanctuary, don’t rush to fill it with words. Observe it. Listen to what your heart says in that stillness. If it trembles, ask: Why am I staying in a place that cannot hold my silence?True love is not found in constant conversation, but in silent companionship. If even your silence is misunderstood, how then can your storms ever be?

When Love Becomes Laborious

When a relationship starts to feel like a full-time job, love is no longer growing—it is merely enduring. In Christian teaching, we are called to labor in love and truth—not in fear or striving. Scripture encourages us to direct our efforts toward peace, grace, and righteousness, not toward actions that deepen pain or confusion.

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

In Buddhist practice, right effort is one of the Eightfold Path teachings. It encourages us to exert energy in ways that reduce suffering—not increase it.

If you are constantly fixing, proving, begging, or shrinking to maintain a bond, you are not acting from compassion but from fear. Love that demands you to abandon your values or selfhood to please another is not love—it is dependency. THERE IS NO RELIGION that asks us to fight endlessly to preserve attachment. It asks us to let go of suffering. Trust.

If your effort brings no peace and only prevents temporary chaos, it is not a union—it is a struggle. You were not meant to lose yourself to find love. You were meant to become more of yourself alongside someone else. So when love begins to feel laborious, pause and ask: Is this the kind of work that nourishes me—or is it draining my spirit?

The Paradox of Presence and Loneliness

Loneliness is not cured by proximity—it is cured by connection. Monks for example meditate in solitude not to escape others, but to meet their truest selves. Paradoxically, one of the deepest forms of loneliness is to feel emotionally neglected while lying next to someone.

When you feel more alive, more seen, and more at peace in their absence than in their presence, your body is sending you a sacred message. It is choosing freedom over false belonging. You may sleep beside someone and still feel like you're in a different world. You may walk together yet feel utterly alone.

These are not illusions—they are revelations. Eastern philosophy teaches us to be mindful of the truth as it is, not as we wish it to be. If your truth is that their presence isolates you more than their absence would, your path is already turning away.

Loneliness is not healed by simply having someone—it is healed by being with someone who truly feels you. If they cannot feel your heart when it’s open, they will never be able to hold your soul when it’s breaking.

The Voice Within Will Not Lie

Your most sacred teacher lives within your chest. It is the quiet, unwavering voice of intuition. Intuition is not magic—it is the accumulated wisdom of your spirit, refined through awareness.

When your inner voice grows louder than the words of the one you love, it's time to listen. That voice may begin as a whisper: This doesn’t feel right, or You’re not being seen.You might try to silence it with hope or drown it in busyness—but it will persist. It will not leave, because it knows.

To deny your inner voice is to abandon the only compass that knows your true path. The truth we avoid is always the truth that ultimately sets us free. The longer we silence this wisdom, the more suffering we attract. So ask yourself: Am I afraid to hear this voice because it threatens the illusion I want to keep?

Let the voice speak. Let it guide. It will never mislead you—not like the promises of someone who cannot see your worth.

The Emotionally Absent Partner

You cannot dance alone in a two-person song. In intimate relationships, your partner becomes your first spiritual community. If they are emotionally unavailable, indifferent, or dismissive, they are no longer in union with you. They are existing in parallel.

When one gives and the other withholds, the connection weakens. But more than that, emotional absence is a sign that someone has stopped believing in the bond. And once a person departs inwardly, no external affection can replace what is gone.

We should not deceive ourselves with appearances. If the soul is starving, no gesture will satisfy it. Often, emotional withdrawal is not born of cruelty, but unconsciousness. Still, the effect is the same—erosion of the sacred ground of love.

Ask yourself: Am I the only one still watering this garden? If so, it is not disloyalty to let go. It is self-respect.

The Peace of Letting Go

The final sign that it’s over is not pain—it is peace. Many expect the end to arrive in fire, tears, or catastrophe. But often, the most profound endings arrive in stillness. A quiet knowing that the path has reached its natural conclusion.

When you no longer fantasize, no longer fight, no longer plead. When you look at them and feel only stillness—you’ve reached the gate of liberation. “You only lose what you cling to.”When you stop clinging, even endings can feel like beginnings.

This peace is not numbness. It is acceptance. It is the moment you are no longer bound by hope or memory. It is the sacred doorway where suffering ends and freedom begins. Do not fear this peace. Do not mistake it for indifference. It is grace. It is awareness rewarded.

Ask yourself: If I walk away today, will my soul feel lighter or heavier? If the answer is lighter, you are not losing love—you are shedding illusion.

Impermanence Is Not Punishment

To say you were not meant to be together is not a curse. It is not a failure. It is karma unfolding. Every soul you meet is a teacher. Some come to show you love. Others, to teach detachment. But all are mirrors.

You were not abandoned. You were redirected. You were not unloved. You were unaligned.

Impermanence is sacred. What ends does not die—it transforms. So let it go. Let them go. Let yourself go. And remember: if it causes more anxiety than joy, it is not your path. If you constantly question it, the answer may already be clear. If your soul feels drained, it is time to choose light.

Walk on—not in anger, not in blame, but in awareness. Because when you accept that you were not meant to be together, you open the door to becoming whole with yourself. And that is the love you were always seeking.

(from Zen Philosoph on youtube “If you were not meant to be Together you will see these signs – Zen and Buddhist Teachings)