The Light Standing Still Is Louder

The middle of the day is when the rehearsal starts. You play out the confession in your head, word for word, and then you play the silence that follows.

You hear their footsteps walking away before you have even spoken. The air grows thin in the cubicle.

The light feels distant, hidden behind the hum of the fluorescent bulbs. But the light does not depend on their response to stay lit.

It was there before the silence, and it is there in the middle of it. There is a truth that says whatever is hidden is meant to be brought out into the open.

Not to be judged. To be seen.

The footsteps walking away are loud. But the light standing still is louder.

You do not have to finish the speech to be held. The silence is not the end of the story.

It is just the space where the light waits for you to stop performing and start breathing.