The Light Was Waiting To Say Hello

The sun is up, and the house is quiet, and for the first time today the noise has stopped. Now comes the panic: that if you finally stop performing, the silence will reveal there is no one left inside to be found.

That the mask has fused to the skin. That behind the smile is just...

empty space. But listen.

The light does not need a performance to find a home. It was there before you learned to smile for the camera.

Before you learned to say 'I'm fine.' Look at the dust motes dancing in this early light—they do not try to be seen. They just are.

And they are full of gold. You are not a hollow shell waiting to be filled.

You are a vessel that has been full all along, even in the exhaustion. The silence is not a void.

It is the only place where you can finally hear the truth: you were never alone in there. The light was waiting for you to stop talking so it could say hello.