The Watchman Who Does Not Sleep

The house is quiet now, but your mind is loud with the things you are trying to hold back. Closing your eyes feels like surrendering control, like letting the chaos win while you are defenseless in the dark.

You stay awake because you believe your vigilance is the only thing keeping the walls from crumbling. But there is a watchman who does not sleep, and he is not waiting for you to fix anything before he takes his shift.

He stands at the door and knocks, not to demand entry, but to eat with you in the middle of your fear. The light is already inside the room, holding the very things you are terrified to release.

You do not have to keep the world spinning tonight. The one who holds you is awake.