Tessa ReneeThere’s something about the clock striking past midnight that loosens the grip I keep on my secrets. In the daylight, I’m careful, measured words, steady tone, walls built high enough to keep anyone from climbing in. But after midnight? Those walls get thinner. My guard softens. My honesty sharpens. I find myself saying things I’d never let slip in the sun.
It’s not that the truths don’t exist before midnight. They’re always there, humming in the background, waiting for their moment. But in the quiet dark, they feel less dangerous. The world is smaller, the air feels heavier, and suddenly the things I’ve been holding back come pouring out. I tell you how much I miss you. I tell you I’m scared. I tell you that I don’t want the night to end because it means I’ll go back to pretending.
Midnight isn’t magic because of the time. It’s magic because of what it pulls out of us, you know, the confessions we’re too proud, too scared, too guarded to admit when the sun is watching.
Final Word: Midnight turns silence into truth serum.
Disclaimer: This is a reflection, not a rule. Don’t go spilling secrets you’ll regret in the morning.
Tessa Renee
