Some moments don't need balloons. They don't need closure. They just need to be felt. Deep in the dirt, when hope has vanished, when the finality of it all presses down—the marriage that crumbled, the life unlived, the child never held, or the one you lost too soon.

This is the candle for the space between knowing and accepting. For when there are no words left, only a raw, primal ache.

Light it to bear witness to your own breaking. To grieve the version of you that simply cannot be anymore. To honor the quiet, trembling strength it takes to keep breathing when the world feels utterly unlit.

This is your sacred ground. Your unpolished truth. Your whispered, defiant vow against disappearing into the dark.