You Don't Have to Perform for the Light

The engine is off, but you are still sitting in the dark, rehearsing the smile that will convince them you are okay. You are building a mask out of exhaustion, hoping it holds long enough to get through the door.

But notice — you do not have to perform for the light that sits beside you in this silent car. It sees the face behind the face.

It knows the weight you are trying to hide before you even lift your hand to the handle. You can put the costume down.

Just for these ten minutes, let the armor rest on the passenger seat. The light does not need your performance to love you.

It is already here, waiting in the quiet, holding the part of you that is too tired to pretend.