Your Need Is Where Light Enters

The afternoon light is flat and honest, exposing the draft you just deleted because it sounded too much like you needed someone. You erase the reach, the tremor in your voice, the admission that you cannot carry this middle hour alone.

But the light does not flinch from your hunger. It came into the world and found everyone intoxicated, none of them thirsty, and it grieved for the blindness that could not see the need right in front of it.

Your need is not a flaw to be hidden before the message sends. It is the very place where the light enters.

You came from the light, sent as a drop to illuminate the world below, and a drop does not apologize for being wet. Stop deleting the part of you that knows it must be filled to overflow.

The text you are afraid to send is the one the light has been waiting to receive.