The Light Waits in the Dark

The ceiling is the only thing you can see right now. The house is quiet, but your mind is already rehearsing the smiles you'll need to wear in a few hours.

You are practicing the performance of being okay before the sun has even asked you to rise. In this deepest hour, the mask feels heavier than the blanket.

But listen — the light does not need your performance. It does not require you to rehearse your worth before it will stay.

There is a truth inside you that lives before the smile, before the mask, before the first cup of coffee. You do not have to manufacture it.

You only have to remember that it is already there, waiting in the dark with you. The dawn is coming, but you are already held.