The Dawn Does Not Scold Your Hesitation

The sun is just beginning to touch the glass, but your eyes are still locked on the screen, replaying the words you just sent. You are convinced they can feel the hesitation in your typing, that they know you considered leaving before you hit send.

The morning light does not scold you for the hollow sound of your own voice. It simply rises, indifferent to your rehearsal, spilling gold over the floor as if nothing happened.

There is a light within you that lights up the whole world, and it was shining before you typed a single letter. You do not need to edit your soul to be worthy of the dawn.

The words are gone now, but the light that sent them remains, untouched by your fear.