Held When You Feel Like a Ghost

The screen glows bright in the middle of your morning, but the face staring back feels like a stranger's. You scroll through the evidence of a life you lived, smiling in rooms you don't remember, wearing a version of yourself that seems to have vanished overnight.

It is a specific kind of panic to realize the person in the photo is gone, leaving you here to manage the aftermath. You put on the mask because the world expects you to be that person again, to perform the joy you once felt without effort.

But the light does not need you to dig up the old smile or pretend it never faded. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world even when you cannot see it yourself.

The face in the picture was real, but it was only one chapter; the light writing this one is still here, still working, still holding you together when you feel like a ghost. You do not have to recognize yourself to be held by the one who knows you best.