The Name Beneath The Noise

The afternoon sun is bright, but it casts a shadow where your name used to fit. You say it out loud in the empty room, just to check if it still belongs to you, or if the weight of the routine has worn it thin.

It feels like you are playing a part you didn't audition for, smiling at coworkers while something inside is quietly unraveling. But the light does not need you to perform the role correctly to recognize you.

It knows the name beneath the noise. There is a truth that lives in us and will be with us forever, untouched by the mask you wear from noon until five.

You do not have to convince the light that you are still here. It is already walking beside you in the cubicle, in the commute, in the silence between tasks.

The name fits because the One who gave it is holding you.