You Do Not Have To Be Okay

The question lands like a stone: 'How are you?' And your mouth moves before your heart can speak. You say 'fine.' You say 'good.' You smile the smile that costs you everything.

The mask is heavy this morning. It feels like armor, but it is a cage.

You are terrified that if you tell the truth, the floor will open up and swallow you whole. But the light does not need your performance.

It sees behind the mask. It sees the trembling hand holding the coffee cup.

It sees the exhaustion you are hiding behind your eyes. There is a place where you do not have to lie.

A place where the truth is not a threat but a door. The light is already there, waiting for you to put the mask down.

You do not have to be okay to be held. You just have to be real.