The Time It Takes For Light

The sun is just starting to touch the window, but the room still feels heavy with what you said last night. You offered them something raw, a memory you carry like a stone, and they laughed.

Not because they are cruel, but because they haven't seen the weight of it yet. They are still standing in the dark where you used to live, while you have already walked into the morning.

That gap between your confession and their understanding is not a failure of your words. It is simply the time it takes for light to travel.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world—even if the world is slow to open its eyes. You did not speak to be understood immediately.

You spoke because the truth inside you demanded to be born. Let them catch up.

The dawn does not wait for permission to rise.