Love Runs Before You Speak

The house is quiet now, but the tension you carry is loud enough to keep you awake. You are measuring your worth by how much breaking you can endure before you finally leave.

But listen — the light inside you was not made to be dimmed by someone else's darkness. There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, and before the apology, before the speech — he ran.

That same love is running toward you right now, not to judge your staying, but to remind you that you are worth more than the pain you are tolerating. The light has never left your side, even in this long night of doubt.

It waits for you to stop shrinking so it can shine through you again. You do not have to earn the right to be whole.