The Light Runs to Hold You

The mask is heavy this morning. It feels like you are holding your breath in a dark closet while they search the room, praying your heartbeat doesn't give you away.

You smile at the coffee machine. You answer the emails.

But inside, you are still crouched in the shadows, waiting for the door handle to turn. You think if they hear you breathing, it's over.

But the light does not need you to be quiet to find you. It does not need you to be perfect to see you.

There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off. He ran.

Before the apology, before the speech—he ran. The light is not searching to catch you.

It is running to hold you. The terror says: stay hidden.

The truth says: you are already known, and you are still loved. You do not have to stop your heart to be safe.