You Are Seen In The Silence

The afternoon stretches out, a long, flat middle where the silence feels heaviest. You are staring at a screen, at the small word that says 'Read,' knowing your heart is sitting there in someone else's pocket, unanswered.

The waiting room of the day is the hardest place to be; it is where the mind begins to invent reasons for the quiet. But listen — the light does not operate on a timeline of immediate replies.

There is a presence that walks beside you in this mundane, aching stretch, one that does not need to see your message to know your name. The silence of another person is not the silence of God.

The light is not holding your vulnerability hostage; it is holding you. You do not have to earn a response to be worthy of existence.

The read receipt is not the final verdict on your value. You are seen, even in the unanswered text.