Put the phone down, you are loved

The phone lights up on the counter, and for a split second, your heart stops. It is their name again.

You watch it ring until the screen goes dark, knowing you are the only one who hasn't hung up yet. The world is moving now; people are smiling at work, performing okayness, pretending the silence doesn't echo so loudly in a crowded room.

But behind the mask you wear so well, you are still holding the line, waiting for a voice that isn't coming. There was a father who saw his son while he was still a long way off—he did not wait for the phone to ring, he ran.

The light does not wait for you to perform strength or hide your grief behind a polite smile. It sees the exhaustion in your eyes and knows you are still carrying the weight of that unanswered call.

You do not have to keep holding on to prove you love them; the connection was never dependent on your grip. Put the phone down.

The one who loves you has already arrived, and you are free to let go.