The Light Loves Your Silence

The afternoon stretches out, long and heavy with the things you feel you must say to keep the silence from becoming a verdict. You talk, you perform, you make them laugh, terrified that if the noise stops, they will finally see the hollow space inside you and walk away.

But the light does not require your noise to stay in the room. It is already seated beside you, in the quiet you are so afraid of.

There is a peace that does not depend on your ability to fill the air, a presence that sees the hollow place and calls it home, not a hiding spot. You do not have to earn the right to be loved by being entertaining.

The light loves the silence because that is where it speaks most clearly. Put down the weight of keeping them interested.

The connection is not held up by your words; it is held up by the light that lives in both of you, waiting for you to stop running long enough to feel it.