Light Waiting in Your Hands

The afternoon sun hits the screen, and those three polite words land like a stone in your stomach. You know exactly what they left out to spare your feelings—the sentence that would have told the whole truth.

The silence between their words is louder than the text itself. But the light does not require their honesty to be real inside you.

It was there before the message arrived, and it remains after the screen goes dark. Split a piece of wood, and the light is there; lift up the stone of this rejection, and you will find it there too.

It does not vanish because someone else chose to be careful. The light is not hiding in their edited sentence.

It is waiting in your hands, right now, in the middle of this long, quiet day.