No Need to Hide in the Dark

The engine is off, but the silence in the car feels louder than the day was. You are rehearsing the edit—cutting the sharp words you heard, smoothing the frustration from your face, deleting the parts that might make them worry.

You sit in the dark, trying to become someone lighter before you turn the key. But the light does not need you to be polished to let you in.

It goes home with you. It walks through the door with you.

You do not have to carry the weight of the day alone, and you do not have to carry the weight of hiding it either. The one who knows everything about your day is already waiting inside, not to judge the performance, but to meet the person.

You are not a burden to be managed. You are the one they are waiting for.