I may not have a guiding light anymore… but maybe one day I’ll find one again. One that won’t leave me.
The day grew dark;
shadows swallowed the sun,
and I was lost
in an endless night —
unable to see,
unable to find my way.
Then a candle flickered to life.
Small. Steady.
It moved slowly toward me,
held gently in his hands.
He sat beside me —
a quiet presence,
a warmth that wrapped around me;
a soft, unseen blanket.
He did not speak at first.
He let the silence hold me,
he pushed away the cold of shame —
let the glow of his light
whisper safety into my soul.
Then, softly —
so softly I almost missed it —
“You are not alone,” he whispered.
Something in me broke.
Tears spilled without warning,
pouring into a river
I could not stop it.
He did not move.
He guarded the flame.
He stayed.
“I see you,”
he murmured into the dark,
and I believed it.
He waited —
through every trembling breath,
through every quiet sob —
until the river ran dry.
Then, ever so delicately,
his hand found mine.
No expectations.
No need for words.
Just warmth.
Just presence.
I leaned into him,
heavy with exhaustion,
and sleep finally claimed me.
Still, he did not move.
Through the endless night,
he held the candle steady —
my only light,
my only comfort.
When my eyes opened once more,
the flame flickered low,
then faded.
The shadows slowly withdrew.
The night loosened its grip.
The world began anew.
Sunlight returned,
soft and golden,
and there he was —
still beside me.
Unmoving.
Steady.
Certain.
“You survived the night,”
he said serenely,
“And now the sun has risen with you,”
So we sat together
in the quiet of a new dawn,
watching the world breathe again —
and beside me,
still and unwavering,
was my guiding light.
©2026 Life in Chaos/M.Stiles
All rights reserved.
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