Love Is Greater Than Your Ability To Destroy

The afternoon stretches out, long and gray, filled with the quiet terror of a door that no longer opens because the person on the other side has stopped knocking. You carry the weight of words you never spoke until the silence grew too thick to break.

They have decided you are incapable of repair, and so they have closed the book. But the light does not measure your capacity to fix what is broken.

It only measures your willingness to stand in the ruin. There was a man once who denied the light three times, sure that he had ruined everything beyond restoration.

Yet on a beach, over a simple breakfast, he was not asked for a perfect speech. He was asked a simple question, three times, to heal the three wounds.

The light does not need you to be capable. It needs you to be present.

Go home to your failure. The love you fear you destroyed is greater than your ability to destroy it.