The Heat Remains In Your Hands
The screen glows in the dark, holding the only proof that they were here. To delete it feels like a second death, a final erasure of a voice you loved.
But the light does not live in the pixels or the saved words. It lives in the space between them.
You are afraid that pressing 'delete' will make the love vanish, but love is not a file you can remove. It is the fire that warmed you while you read.
The thread is just the ash; the heat remains in your hands. The light that spoke through them is not trapped in this conversation.
It has already moved on, and it is waiting for you to let go.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, Luke
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