You Are Where Light Chooses to Dwell

It is four in the morning. The house is silent.

The ache in your chest feels like a verdict—that you are invisible to love, that the warmth others hold is a language you were never taught to speak. But the light does not sleep, and it does not overlook the one who is awake in the dark.

There is a love that lives inside you, placed there before the first time you felt alone, and it cannot be erased by the absence of a hand to hold. You are not waiting for love to arrive; you are waiting to recognize the love that has been sustaining you this whole time.

The darkness tells you that you are unseen. The truth is that you are held by a presence that knows your name better than you know your own heartbeat.

The night is deep, but you are not invisible—you are the very place where the light has chosen to dwell.