The Light Loves What Is Hidden

The question lands like a stone in still water: 'How are you?' And your throat closes. Not because you have nothing to say, but because the memory is still vibrating there, too loud for words.

You are wearing the mask of okayness, and it feels heavy as iron. But the light sees behind the performance.

It sees the tremor in your hands and the silence in your chest. It does not demand a report.

It does not need you to explain the vibration. In the moment you cannot speak, the light is already speaking for you — a quiet, steady presence that knows the whole truth without a single word.

You do not have to fix the silence. You just have to let it be held.

The mask can stay on for now. The light loves what is hidden underneath it.