grief and loss

The day is ending, and now the room feels heavier than it did in the light. You are carrying a grief that the daylight could not dissolve, and the approaching night feels like it might swallow you whole.

But there was a woman once who stood outside a tomb in the dark, weeping because everything she loved was gone, and the light did not rush to fix it; it simply stood there and wept with her. That same light is here with you now, not as a bright demand to feel better, but as a quiet presence holding the weight of your loss.

You do not have to stop grieving to be loved; in fact, the grief is proof that the love is real. The darkness has not overcome the light inside you, because that light has always known the long night and has never left.