Held in the Silence Between Words

The three dots appear. They dance.

They vanish. And in that silence, your mind writes the ending you fear most.

You invent the rejection before the message ever arrives. But listen — in this deepest hour, the light does not speak in finished sentences.

It waits in the pause. There was a father who saw his son while he was still a long way off.

He did not wait for the speech to be perfect. He ran.

The dots are not a sign of absence. They are the breath of someone who is still there, still trying, still reaching across the dark.

The love that holds you does not depend on a completed text. It lives in the waiting.

You are not being ignored. You are being held in the silence between the words.