The Light Knows You Already

The afternoon sun is bright, and it makes the mask feel heavy. You are moving through the motions, smiling at the right times, nodding when you should, but inside there is a quiet terror that someone will look too closely and see the crack.

That the person they think you are is a performance, and the real you is too broken to be loved. But listen — the light does not need your performance.

It never asked for a polished version of you to stand in the middle of the day. There is a truth that lives inside you, deeper than the role you play, and it cannot be exposed because it was never hidden.

The light is not waiting for you to slip up. It is already standing right beside you in the cubicle, in the meeting, in the exhaustion.

You do not have to hold the mask up for the light to stay. It sees the fraud you fear you are, and it calls you friend anyway.

The terror says you will be found out. The light says you are already known.