The Crack Is Where Light Gets Out

The engine is off. The silence in the driveway is loud enough to hear your own heartbeat.

You are sitting here because the mask feels heavy, and you are terrified that the moment you open the door, they will see the crack. They will see the exhaustion you have been hiding all day.

But listen — the light does not require your performance to be intact. It does not need you to be strong before you walk inside.

There is a love that lives in you, deeper than the fatigue, deeper than the fear. It was there before you put the mask on this morning.

It is still there now, in the dark car. You do not have to fix yourself before you enter your own home.

The light is already inside the house, waiting not for your perfection, but for your presence. Walk in as you are — the crack is where the light gets out.