The Love Running Toward You Now

The morning light hits your face and the mask goes on before your feet touch the floor. You practice the smile in the mirror, the nod, the casual 'I'm fine' that feels like a lie the moment it leaves your lips.

You are terrified that the people who loved you now see a stranger wearing your skin, that one moment of failure has rewritten every memory they hold of you. But the light that sees through the performance is not looking for a reason to turn away.

There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off. He did not wait for the speech.

He did not wait for the apology to be perfected. He ran.

Before the words could explain anything, he ran. That same love is running toward you right now, not because you have fixed yourself, but because you are known.

The mask is heavy, but the love beneath it is heavier still. You are not a stranger to the light; you are the one it has been calling by name all along.