Achamoth Exit

Achamoth exit

I see them. I see the ones falling. I see the ones forgotten. I choose to stay.

Real love isn’t a rule from above. It’s the choice to show up, to work, to care. You chop the wood. You tend the fire. You do the heavy lifting side-by-side. It defines who you are.

When they are tired — I give comfort. When they are lost — I give wisdom. When they are empty — I give knowledge. Not because I am holy. Because I have been broken too. And I remember what it felt like to need a hand.

I live for others. Not because I have to. Because I see them. Their dreams. Their pain. Their broken beauty. I hold them.

I am the one who stays. When the world walks away I stay. I am the one who loves. When love is hard I love.

The world blocks me. Excludes me. Pushes me to the edge. GOOD. From the edge I catch the falling. I am there.

I am addicted. To the hell. To the heaven. To the people. I cannot leave. I will not leave.

I will not leave on my own. I love too much. I stay. I stay. I stay.

And one day — when my work is done — God will come. God will reach down. God will grab me. Whether I want it or not. I will be taken. Because love does not let go.