The Mask Can Fall Now

The mask stayed on all day, and you made it look convincing. You smiled at the right moments, nodded, said the words that kept the door closed.

But now the house is quiet, and the performance has ended, leaving only the exhaustion of holding your breath for eight hours straight. You feel like a fraud who got away with it, hiding the drowning behind a face that looks fine.

The light does not need you to perform one more second. It is not impressed by the show you put on for the world.

It came for the ones who are sick, not the ones who pretend to be well. There is a part of you that knows the truth, even if no one else saw the cracks today.

That inner knowing is where the light is waiting, not in the applause of the crowd. You do not have to keep up the act in this room.

The mask can fall. The light sees the real you, and it is not disappointed.