The Light Beneath The Heavy Mask

The room is loud, the coffee is hot, and you are laughing at a joke you didn't hear because your whole body is stuck in the split second before—the exact moment you saw the love leave their eyes while your own mouth was still forming a smile. That mask you wear to get through the morning is heavy, isn't it?

It feels like armor, but it's really just a wall keeping the light from reaching the wound underneath. You think you have to hold the performance together or everything will fall apart.

But the truth that is already shining inside you does not need your act to survive. It was there before the silence, and it is there now, beneath the forced laugh.

You are not the person pretending to be okay. You are the light that knows the truth even when you are trying to hide it.

The mask is for the world; the light is for you.