| General Non-Fiction posted October 29, 2025 | Chapters: |
...15 16 -17- 
|
The space between is not emptiness, it is grace.
A chapter in the book Verre De Mer
The Space Between
by Britt-Leigh T
| Background “Verre de Mer” is the story of a woman who turns her pain into purpose and her brokenness into light. |
There is a quiet place that exists between who I was and who I am still becoming.
It is not quite arrival, not quite beginning; just the soft, suspended pause where everything inside you exhales.
For most of my life, I feared that space. I rushed through it, tried to fill it, tried to fix it. I thought stillness meant I was stuck, that if I was not moving or proving, I was falling behind. But now, I understand; the space between is not emptiness.
It is grace.
It is where the noise fades and truth hums softly underneath it all.
It is the moment after the breaking, before the rebuilding. It is where the tide lingers before it returns to shore.
And maybe that is why I have always loved the song "The Space Between" by Dave Matthews Band.
It feels like an anthem for all the moments life does not make sense. When love hurts but still matters, when distance grows but connection remains.
That song has followed me through so many seasons: heartbreak, hope, forgiveness, awakening. It is the sound of surviving, but softly. Of feeling everything, and still believing in love anyway.
There is a line that has always stayed with me, "The space between the tears we cry is the laughter keeps us coming back for more."
That is life, isn't it? The messy, beautiful middle between joy and pain, holding space for both.
I think healing lives there too. Not in pretending you are fine, but in learning to breathe in that middle space. Between anger and acceptance. Between who you were told to be and who you really are. Between breaking apart and becoming whole.
Sometimes, I still drift back into old fears; the need to be seen, to be understood, to be enough. But then I hear those familiar chords and remember that I already am.
That love does not live in perfection, it lives in presence. In showing up, even when your voice shakes. In choosing softness, even when you have been hardened by life.
That is what "The Space Between" has taught me: both the song and the silence. That peace is not something you chase. It is something you allow.
And maybe that is where I am now; not at the end of my story, but resting gently in the space between.
Where the tide quiets.
The noise fades.
And for the first time,
I can hear my own heart sing.
It is not quite arrival, not quite beginning; just the soft, suspended pause where everything inside you exhales.
For most of my life, I feared that space. I rushed through it, tried to fill it, tried to fix it. I thought stillness meant I was stuck, that if I was not moving or proving, I was falling behind. But now, I understand; the space between is not emptiness.
It is grace.
It is where the noise fades and truth hums softly underneath it all.
It is the moment after the breaking, before the rebuilding. It is where the tide lingers before it returns to shore.
And maybe that is why I have always loved the song "The Space Between" by Dave Matthews Band.
It feels like an anthem for all the moments life does not make sense. When love hurts but still matters, when distance grows but connection remains.
That song has followed me through so many seasons: heartbreak, hope, forgiveness, awakening. It is the sound of surviving, but softly. Of feeling everything, and still believing in love anyway.
There is a line that has always stayed with me, "The space between the tears we cry is the laughter keeps us coming back for more."
That is life, isn't it? The messy, beautiful middle between joy and pain, holding space for both.
I think healing lives there too. Not in pretending you are fine, but in learning to breathe in that middle space. Between anger and acceptance. Between who you were told to be and who you really are. Between breaking apart and becoming whole.
Sometimes, I still drift back into old fears; the need to be seen, to be understood, to be enough. But then I hear those familiar chords and remember that I already am.
That love does not live in perfection, it lives in presence. In showing up, even when your voice shakes. In choosing softness, even when you have been hardened by life.
That is what "The Space Between" has taught me: both the song and the silence. That peace is not something you chase. It is something you allow.
And maybe that is where I am now; not at the end of my story, but resting gently in the space between.
Where the tide quiets.
The noise fades.
And for the first time,
I can hear my own heart sing.
Music has always been my medicine. It is the only thing that can reach the places inside me I cannot explain: the feelings I do not want to sit with, the ache that language cannot soften. When everything feels too heavy, I get in my car, roll down the windows, and let the music take over.
For me, that sound has always been Dave Matthews Band. Their songs have carried me through every version of myself. The breaking, the healing, the forgiving, the becoming. There is something about the way Dave sings that reminds me I am still alive, even when I forget how to feel it.
"Grace Is Gone" has been one of those songs for me. The kind that feels like a mirror and a hand to hold all at once. It is pain you can sing along to. It is heartbreak that somehow lets you breathe.
It is impossible to describe what music does to the soul without lessening it. It just is…
A heartbeat when yours falters.
A light when you have gone too far into the dark. A reminder that you are still here… and that somehow, even pain can sound like grace.
I cannot imagine the world without music. It is the closest thing we have to heaven on earth.
For me, that sound has always been Dave Matthews Band. Their songs have carried me through every version of myself. The breaking, the healing, the forgiving, the becoming. There is something about the way Dave sings that reminds me I am still alive, even when I forget how to feel it.
"Grace Is Gone" has been one of those songs for me. The kind that feels like a mirror and a hand to hold all at once. It is pain you can sing along to. It is heartbreak that somehow lets you breathe.
It is impossible to describe what music does to the soul without lessening it. It just is…
A heartbeat when yours falters.
A light when you have gone too far into the dark. A reminder that you are still here… and that somehow, even pain can sound like grace.
I cannot imagine the world without music. It is the closest thing we have to heaven on earth.
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