The Morning Comes For You As You Are

The sun is rising, and the person beside you is still asleep. You lie perfectly still, terrified that the rhythm of your breathing will betray the hollow space inside your chest.

You think you must hold your breath to keep from waking them to your emptiness. But the light does not sleep, and it does not need your performance to know you are there.

It sees the morning arriving not as a demand to be whole, but as an invitation to simply exist. There is a peace that does not require you to be loud or fixed or even awake in the way the world expects.

The dawn is breaking outside, and the same light is breaking inside, filling the hollow places you tried to hide. You do not have to earn the right to take up space in this bed.

The morning has come for you exactly as you are.