The Light Sees You in Silence

The screen lights up your face in the dark, then fades to black. No new messages.

Just the quiet assumption that you are fine, that you are handled, that you don't need checking on. It is a specific kind of loneliness — to be invisible because everyone thinks you are strong.

But the light does not need you to be strong. It does not wait for a signal that you are ready.

Like the father who saw his son while he was still a long way off, the light sees you in the silence before you even speak. It knows the difference between being alone and being held.

You are not forgotten just because the phone is quiet. The light is already here, sitting with you in the gathering dark, needing no notification to know you need it.