Peace in the cracks between us

The house is quiet now, but the air still feels heavy with the day's collisions. You watched them struggle to find their footing in a room that suddenly felt too small, too new, too full of strangers who are supposed to be family.

It is exhausting to hold the space for grief you did not cause, to be the bridge while feeling like you are breaking. But listen — the light does not demand that you force a blend tonight.

It simply waits for you to put the armor down. There is a peace that does not look like a perfect picture; it looks like surviving the evening without fixing everything.

You are not responsible for the healing, only for the presence. The light is already in the cracks between you, holding what you cannot.