You Are Not Too Heavy To Love

The house is quiet now, and the silence has a weight that feels like it might finally break you. You are terrified that if you speak the truth—if you admit you cannot carry this alone—the light will realize you are too heavy to hold and let go.

But listen. The light does not measure your worth by how much you can bear in the dark.

It measured it on a beach at dawn, asking a broken friend not for perfection, but for love. Do you love me?

That was the only question that mattered. The answer did not need to be strong.

It only needed to be true. Your admission of need is not a burden that drives the light away.

It is the very thing that draws it closer. You are not too heavy to love.

You are simply human, and the light was made for exactly this weight.