You Are Not The Glue
The sun is up now, and they are thanking you for the repair. They smile at your competence, unaware that you spent the night holding the broken pieces together so they wouldn't have to see the crack.
You nod back, wearing the mask of the one who fixed it, while inside you feel like the thing that broke. But listen — the light does not require you to be the repairman.
It only asks you to be real. There is a freedom in the morning that the night hides: you do not have to carry the weight of their ignorance.
The dawn reveals that you are not responsible for holding the world together when it was never yours to hold. Let the mask fall.
The light sees the fracture, and it loves the broken part just as much as the fixed part. You are not the glue.
You are the child who gets to rest.
Drawing from
Matthew, Gospel of Thomas
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