The Light Honors Your Closed Door

The mask feels heavy this morning, glued on by the fear that one more 'no' will finally prove you are selfish. You smile at the request, but inside you are crumbling, convinced that boundaries are the same as betrayal.

There was a moment when the light stood at a door and knocked, waiting for you to open it — it did not break the wood down to get in. The light respects the closed door.

It honors the space you keep. Your 'no' is not a rejection of love; it is the guard rail that keeps your heart from turning to stone.

If you say yes until you are empty, there is nothing left to give. The truth is simpler: you are loved even when you are unavailable.

The light does not need your performance to stay.