The Light Waits When You Stop Performing

The door just closed behind you, and the mask fell before your coat even hit the floor. You smiled when they asked how you were.

You nodded. You said 'fine' while carrying a weight that feels like it's cracking your ribs.

Now the silence rushes in, and you are left alone with the lie you just told to keep everyone else comfortable. But listen — the light does not need your performance.

It was there in the room when you smiled, and it is here in the quiet now that you've stopped. You do not have to explain the exhaustion or apologize for the nod.

There is no darkness in the light, not even the darkness of your pretense. It simply waits for you to put the armor down.

The truth is already sitting on the couch beside you, patient and silent. You don't have to speak it yet.

Just let it see you take off the mask.