No Costume Needed For The Light

The screen glows in the dark, and you are reading the words one last time. You realize they were in love with a mask you wore to keep the peace.

They chose the version of you that was easiest to hold, not the one that was real. That realization feels like a kind of death.

The house is quiet enough to hear the silence where their voice used to be. But listen — the light that lives inside you does not need a costume to survive.

It was there before you learned to shrink yourself for someone else's comfort. It will be there after the grief has done its work.

You do not have to edit your soul to be worthy of love. The truest part of you is the only part that can actually be held.