The Hand That Stays Through The Lie

The sun is up now. The night that held your lie has passed, but the memory of their hand on your shoulder remains.

You are still wondering if that touch was comfort or a silent acknowledgment that they knew you were breaking. In the gray light of this new morning, the answer does not matter as much as the fact that they stayed.

While you were constructing the falsehood, they were constructing a bridge. They did not pull away when the fraud was fresh.

They leaned in. The light does not wait for you to become honest before it touches you.

It touches you so that you might finally stop hiding. You made it through the night of your own making.

And now, in the first light, the hand is still there. Not to condemn the liar.

But to hold the one who is learning to tell the truth.