The Light Knows You Even When You Don't

The afternoon sun hits the glass just right, turning the window into a mirror that shows a stranger staring back. You see the fatigue, the mask you've worn since morning, the person who has been performing okayness while breaking inside.

It feels like the light has left the building. But the light does not leave when the face changes.

Split a piece of wood, and the light is there. Lift up the stone, and you will find it there.

It is not in the reflection. It is in the hands holding the weight.

The stranger in the glass is just the tired part of you that needs to sit down. The real you is the one who knows the name behind the eyes.

You do not have to recognize yourself to be held. The light recognizes you even when you don't.