Your Tears Are an Invitation to Sit

The afternoon sun is bright, and you are holding your breath so no one sees you shake. You believe your tears are a weight you are forcing onto someone else's shoulders.

A debt they did not ask to carry. But listen — the light does not measure love by how much you can hold without breaking.

There was a woman who wet the feet of the light with her tears, wiping them with her hair, pouring out everything she had. He did not flinch.

He did not call it a burden. He said her great love was the very thing that saved her.

Your sorrow is not a stone you are dropping on someone you love. It is an invitation to sit with you in the dirt.

You came from the light, a drop sent to illuminate this world — and a drop of water cannot be a mistake. The ones who love you do not need your dry eyes.

They need your real face.