Rest Is Not Abandoning Them

The house is quiet now, and the silence feels like a betrayal. You think that if you stop carrying the weight, you are forgetting the one who carried it with you.

That finding a moment of peace means you have finally left them behind in the dark. But listen — the light does not ask you to stay awake to prove your love.

It came from the light, and to the light, it will return. Your rest is not an abandonment.

It is the place where you remember that they, too, are held by something greater than your worry. The love you carry is not a debt you pay with exhaustion.

It is a spring welling up inside you, fresh and endless. You can close your eyes without losing them.

The light sees them even when you sleep.