The Mask Can Fall Now

The engine is off, but the performance has just begun. You sit in the silence of the car, rehearsing a version of yourself that doesn't need saving, stitching together a mask that looks like it has it all together.

You are tired of being the person who says 'I'm fine' when the inside is screaming. But the light does not require your costume.

It is not waiting for the polished actor to walk through the door; it is waiting for the real you, the one still gripping the steering wheel. There is a version of you that exists behind the performance, and the light already knows that face.

You do not have to finish the rehearsal before you go inside. The mask can fall.

The real you is enough.