Light Sitting in the Dust With You

The room is quiet now, but the silence feels heavy, like a held breath waiting to exhale into rejection. You showed them the broken pieces, the jagged edges you usually keep hidden, and now you cannot stop watching their face for the moment the light changes.

You are waiting for the shift, the subtle turning away that says you have shown too much, that the mess is finally too much to carry. But the light that lives inside you does not flinch at the dark; it was born in it, shaped by it, and it knows exactly how to hold what you have just revealed.

There is a truth written in the ancient pages that the darkness has not overcome the light, and that same light is shining right now in the space between you and them. It is not waiting for you to clean up the floor before it stays; it is already sitting in the dust with you.

The fear tells you to brace for the departure, but the love that is greater than your heart has already made its home in the very place you are most afraid to be seen.