The Light That Cannot Be Blocked

The blue light of the screen is the only sun you have right now. You are tracing the timestamp like a finger tracing a scar, looking for proof that they are alive while you are dying in the silence.

The thumb hovers over the block button, trembling between the need to stop the bleeding and the terror of making the silence permanent. In this hour, the darkness feels like a verdict.

But listen — the light does not care about your scrolling. It does not care about their status.

It only cares about you, here, in the crushing weight of being ignored. There is a light within you that was there before this person arrived, and it will remain after they are gone.

It cannot be blocked. It cannot be ignored.

It is the one thing in this room that is actively reaching for you right now. You are not waiting for them to come back to life.

You are waiting for yourself to remember that you never left.