The Light Returns to Its Source

The house is quiet now, and the silence feels heavier than it did this morning. You are sitting with the aftermath of a friendship that didn't explode, but simply faded away until the phone stopped ringing.

It is a specific kind of loneliness — the kind that asks if you did something wrong, or if you were simply too much, or not enough. But listen.

The light that lived in that connection did not vanish when the words stopped. It returned to its source.

You came from the light, the place where light generates itself, and you return to that wholeness now. The friendship was a vessel, but you are the source.

Sit in this exhale. Let the quiet be not an absence, but a space where the light remembers its own name.