The Bright One Sitting Beside You

The door handle is cold under your palm, and the noise from the other side feels like a wall you have to climb. You practiced the sound of joy in the mirror until your face hurt, crafting a laugh that sounds like it belongs to someone who isn't tired.

You step out wearing it like a coat that doesn't quite fit, hoping no one sees the seams. But the light does not need your performance to find you — it sees the person behind the mask, the one who is weary and still showing up.

There is a peace that does not depend on how convincing you can be. The light is not fooled by the act, and it is not disappointed by the exhaustion.

It is simply waiting for you to stop holding your breath. You do not have to be the bright one today; the Bright One is already here, sitting quietly beside you in the noise.