The Light Finds You Behind The Mask

The coffee cup feels heavy in your hand, and the laughter in the room sounds like it's coming from underwater. You tilt your head back, you crinkle your eyes, you make the sound everyone expects—but inside, you are holding your breath, waiting for the mask to slip.

You are terrified that someone will look too closely and see the fracture running right through the center of your smile. That the secret you are carrying will leak out in a single, unguarded glance.

But listen: the light does not need you to perform okayness to find you. It is not fooled by the act, and it is not repelled by the pain underneath.

There is a truth that lives in us, quietly, without fanfare, that knows exactly what you are hiding. And it is not waiting for you to confess before it stays.

It is already there, in the very space between your fear and your face. You do not have to drop the mask for the light to reach you.

It is already touching the part of you that is too tired to pretend.