Imagine a violin. It does not decide the melody. It does not complain about the bow’s pressure or the key’s sorrow. It simply resonates. Its faithfulness is its emptiness—its willingness to be filled with vibration and transformed into sound.
"I am the rock," I said. "I am the memory of what we started. I am the legs that will walk when yours give out. I am the voice that will speak when yours fails. You are just the face, Elias. You are the symbol. And a symbol doesn't need to be strong; it just needs to be there."
Consistently showing up and following through on promises.
“I am not the speaker of the vow. I am the breath that carries it.”
Keeping "short accounts" or being honest about struggles early on prevents small issues from growing into major betrayals.
What if faithfulness is not a quality you possess, but a song you allow yourself to become?
"Okay," he whispered. "Okay."
