The Light Waits in Your Unfinished Goodbye

It is the middle of the day, and the screen is bright, but your hands are heavy holding a message from three months ago. You read the last words they sent, and you realize you still do not know how to say goodbye.

The silence has stretched so long it feels like a wall you cannot climb. But the light does not demand that you finish the sentence today.

It meets you in the unfinished business, in the draft you cannot send, in the ache of not knowing. There is a peace available that does not require you to have the answers right now.

You can put the phone down. You can let the words sit in the dark for another hour.

The light is not waiting for your closure to love you. It is already here, sitting with you in the middle of the mess.