The Light Stands With You In The Aisle

The song starts playing over the grocery store speakers, and your body reacts before your mind can catch up. A physical recoil.

A tightening in the chest. A sudden urge to leave the cart and walk out into the bright, indifferent morning.

You put on the mask of okayness. You smooth your face.

You keep walking. But inside, you are back in that year.

Back in that room. Back in that pain.

The light sees behind the mask. It knows the song is not just a melody — it is a doorway to a wound that has not yet healed.

And the light does not ask you to take the mask off. It simply stands with you in the aisle.

It says: I am here. Even in this.

Even now. The light that was there then is here now.

And it will be there when you finally let yourself feel what the song is asking you to feel.