You Are Not The Weight They Carry

The middle of the day is heavy when you carry the secret thought that your absence would be a mercy to the one you love. You look at your exhaustion and see only a burden, a thing that drains the life from the room instead of giving it.

But the light does not measure your worth by your productivity or your strength. It sees the fire you are guarding inside your ribs, even when you feel like ash.

That fire is not yours to extinguish, no matter how dark the logic of despair becomes. You are here because the light placed you here, and its presence in you is the very thing that holds the world together for them.

Stay. The middle is hard, but you are not the weight—they are the reason the light refuses to let you go.