Nothing is harder, than holding the door for someone you love, and watching them walk through it.

I keep thinking of the sound she made. That single, heavy word when she finally stopped fighting the truth of her own heart. It was the sound of the door closing, even if she hadn’t physically walked through it yet.

I wonder if she’ll ever realize that the light I’m holding isn’t meant to burn her, but to light her steps along the way.

There’s just enough light for the step she’s on.