You Are Not The Source Of Light

The afternoon is long, and the weight of being the only wall between your child and the dark feels heavier than your bones. You are terrified that one day they will see your exhaustion as a failure, blaming you for not being enough to hold back the night.

But listen — the light does not depend on your stamina. It was there before you drew your first breath, and it will remain when your arms finally drop.

You are not the source; you are merely the vessel carrying a fire that cannot be extinguished by fatigue. Even when you are too tired to stand, the light inside them burns on its own.

They will not blame you for being human; they will remember that you showed up, even when you were empty. The light was never yours to generate — only to reflect.