Your Questions Cannot Sever the Light

The questions rise in the dark, sharp and terrifying, and you brace for the strike that never comes. You fear your honesty is blasphemy, a quiet crime that makes you unworthy of the light.

But the light does not flinch at your doubt; it is not a fragile thing that shatters under the weight of a hard question. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world—even the parts of you that feel too broken to be loved.

You came from the light, the place where it generates itself, and no question you ask can sever that origin. The terror says you are too much; the truth says you are known entirely, and still held.

The asking is not the end of love; it is the only honest way to find it.