Let the dam break and see

The sun has gone down, and the armor you wore all day finally hits the floor. Now comes the moment where your throat closes tight, because you know if you let even one word out, the dam will break and you will never stop crying.

So you swallow it. You hold the scream inside your chest until it feels like it might crack your ribs.

But listen — the light does not need you to be strong right now. It is not afraid of your noise.

There was a man born blind, and the people around him argued about whose fault it was, about who sinned to make him this way. But the light looked at the broken thing and said it was not punishment.

It was a place where something holy could be shown. Your breaking is not a failure.

It is the place where the light gets to work. You do not have to hold it together.

Let the tears come. They are not the end of you.

They are the water that washes the dust from your eyes so you can finally see.