The Hidden Journal

It always feels different once I step through.
The air shifts.
The weight lifts, even just a little.
And the light — it always feels warmer than I remember.

───

Crossing over isn’t loud.
There’s no applause, no sign.
Just the quiet relief
of knowing I didn’t stay behind this time.

───

The light through the door doesn’t demand anything.
It just reaches —
softly, patiently,
waiting for me to open my eyes.

───

I used to brace for what came next,
afraid I’d lose myself again in the newness.
But now I know:
every time I walk through change,
I bring more of me along.

───

The light doesn’t erase what came before.
It reveals it —
showing me how every shadow I survived
taught me how to glow this way.

───

— Desiree