The Light Sitting With Unsent Words

The screen is bright, but the room is dimming. Your thumb hovers over a name that feels like a door you are terrified to open.

You know that one message—'are we okay?'—could confirm the silence is permanent. The fear says: do not ask, because the answer might break you.

But the light does not ask you to calculate the risk of love. It came for the broken, not the whole.

It does not wait for you to be certain before it moves toward you. The distance you feel is real, but it is not the final truth.

The one who seeks is already being sought. You do not have to send the text to be found.

The light is already in the room, sitting with you in the unsent words.