You Do Not Have to Be Whole

The question comes in the hallway, and your throat tightens. "I'm fine," you say, because the truth feels too heavy to carry into the light.

You are terrified they will see the crack, the exhaustion, the fraud you believe you are. But listen — the light does not need your performance.

It never asked for a mask. There is 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 even form, he was already there, arms open, kissing the dust off your face.

You do not have to be whole to be held. You only have to be honest.

The darkness has not overcome the truth of who you are. The mask is heavy, but the light is lighter.

Put it down. You are not a fraud.

You are a child who has forgotten they are already loved.