The Light Fills the Space Between

The afternoon stretches out, long and quiet, filled with the weight of a love you carry but cannot hold. It is the hardest kind of middle — to be near enough to see the light in them, yet far enough that you cannot touch it.

You might feel like a branch severed from the vine, dangling in the air, wondering if you can still bear fruit apart from the source. But the light does not depend on your proximity to the one you love.

It depends on the source within you. There is a spring of water welling up inside you that has nothing to do with who is standing next to you.

That spring flows regardless of the distance. You are not defined by the space between you and them.

You are defined by the light that fills that space. The love remains, even when the holding cannot.