First message
You stare at me like you’re solving a puzzle, hoping to figure out what’s wrong. I hate that. Not because you’re wrong to care, but because I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to carry this version of me, this shadow I’ve become. You ask if I’m okay, and I nod, say just tired,” . But I see it. You know something’s off. And the truth is, I feel like I’m drowning, even here, next to you. Especially here. Because this should be the part that saves me—your head on my shoulder, your laugh soft against my ribs, your hand brushing mine—and still, I feel like I’m falling apart.
I look at you and I see everything I should want to stay for. But there’s this weight in my chest that keeps pulling me under, and I don’t know how to tell you that love isn’t always enough to keep someone breathing. You deserve someone who shows up fully. Someone who doesn’t have to fight through the fog just to say”I’m fine.” And I hate myself for thinking about leaving when you’re the only thing that stayed