The Light Runs Toward You

The sun has set, and the house is quiet enough for the old fear to speak up again. It whispers that you are too much—that your very presence is a weight that will crush anyone who tries to stay close.

You brace yourself for the moment they finally see the truth and run. But listen closely.

There is a love that does not calculate the cost of your complexity. A father once saw his son coming home from a long way off, still covered in the filth of his mistakes, and ran to meet him before the apology could even be formed.

He did not run because the son was safe to be around. He ran because he was his.

The light does not flee from the dark parts of you; it moves into them. You are not a burden to be carried until the carrier breaks.

You are the very reason the light came down in the first place. The terror says you will drive them away, but the truth says they are already running toward you.