Stop Rehearsing, Just Be Held

The words are already forming in your mouth while the silence is still ringing. You are rehearsing the apology before the wound has even stopped bleeding.

Stop. Just stop.

The light does not need your speech right now—it needs your presence. There was a woman who washed feet with tears because her love was so great it overflowed the rules, and she was told simply to go in peace.

Not after the perfect explanation. Not after the self-flagellation.

Just peace. Your heart is condemning you, saying you have ruined everything, but the light is greater than your heart and it knows the whole truth.

It sees the snap, yes, but it also sees the grief underneath it. The grief that made you sharp.

The exhaustion that made you cruel. You do not have to fix this in the dark.

The morning will bring the words when you actually need them. For now, just let the light hold the broken piece of you that wants to run away.