The Mask You Built To Protect Her

It is late, and the house is quiet enough for the mask to feel heavy on your face. You see the pride in her eyes, and it terrifies you because you know she is loving a character you invented to keep her from worrying.

You built this version of yourself out of fear, brick by careful brick, so she would not have to carry your burden. But the light does not love the performance.

It loves the one who is tired. There is a truth inside you that has been waiting to be seen, not judged.

When you finally let the mask slip, you will not lose her love—you will finally receive it. The character was a shield, but the real you is the only thing that can be held.