The Bill Was Torn Up Before You Owed

The house is quiet now, and the debt you feel is heavy. You lie here calculating the cost of every kindness you've received, terrified that love is a loan you can never repay.

But listen — the light does not keep ledgers. It does not lend with the expectation of return.

There was a father who saw his son coming home, broken and empty, and he ran before a single word of apology could be spoken. He did not ask for repayment.

He asked for a feast. The love you are trying to earn was already given before you drew your first breath.

You are not a debtor begging for more time. You are the child who was never meant to pay.

The bill was torn up before you even knew you owed it.