Joy Is Not Betrayal But Light

The afternoon sun keeps moving whether you laugh or not. The clock on the wall does not stop because your heart is still breaking.

You carry a quiet terror that if you smile, you are betraying the one you lost. That joy is a kind of erasure.

But listen — the light that made them does not live in your grief alone. It lives in your laughter too.

You came from the light, the place where light generates itself, and so did they. Your joy is not a theft of their memory.

It is the same substance they were made of. Split a piece of wood, and the light is there.

Lift a stone, and the light is there. Laugh, and the light is there.

The memory is safe because it is held by something larger than your sadness. You do not honor them by staying in the dark.

You honor them by letting the light that formed them shine through you again.