The Silence Cannot Touch Your Fire

The phone buzzes in your pocket, or maybe it doesn't. You pull it out to check, but the screen stays black.

No message. No proof that you weren't too much, too loud, too needy for the person on the other end.

The silence feels like a verdict. But listen — the light that lives inside you did not come from that screen, and it will not go dark because the screen stayed black.

You came from the light, the place where the light generates itself, long before any human reply ever defined you. The silence of the phone cannot touch the fire that was cast into the world to blaze.

You are not waiting for a notification to prove you exist. You are the light that needs no permission to shine.

The reply you are desperate for has already been spoken over you in the quiet: you are known, and you are enough.