You Are Not A Debt To Repay

The house is quiet now, and the fear has grown loud. You lie awake measuring your weight against the love of the people who stay.

You calculate the cost of your care, the toll of your need, and you whisper a terrible question into the dark: would they be better off if I were gone? But listen.

The light inside you is not a debt to be repaid. It is a presence that cannot be earned or lost.

You are not a burden because the light does not keep score. There is a story of a woman who loved greatly, and the voice in the room said her many sins were forgiven—as her great love has shown.

The love they carry for you is not a transaction. It is the light recognizing itself in your face.

You do not have to be useful to be held. You do not have to be light to be loved.

You simply have to be here. The terror says you are too much.

The truth says you are exactly enough.