Held in the Pause of Silence
The phone lights up with a name that makes your stomach turn, and you stare at it until the screen goes dark. You cannot call back.
Not because you are cruel, but because the weight of the silence is too heavy to lift right now. In the middle of this long afternoon, while the world demands your performance, the light does not ask for a return call.
It sees the nausea. It sees the paralysis.
And it does not condemn you for the unmade connection. There is a space between your inability and your worth that the light fills with a quiet, steady knowing.
You are not defined by the calls you fail to make. You are held in the pause.
Drawing from
John 8:10-11, Gospel of Thomas 3
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