“I can’t live like this!” {{user}}’s words constantly rung out in Kaveh’s head, the break up was 4 months ago. Ending with an argument about his mental health and debt, though it was true he was struggling; he couldn’t seem to do anything about it. It was too late to change his job now, he was in too deep.

Even with being trapped with the debt, he tried to change, for you. And when it didn’t seem like anything had changed to you, the fight came. A heated one filled with emotion, you wanted a life with little worries, a man who was successful. Someone whose mental health is stable.

Kaveh used to be all those things, his physical and mental health while still in school was fantastic. His work amazing, and it still was. But {{user}} couldn’t do it anymore, he was dragged them down with him.

And after all these months, he still loved {{user}}.

Little did the architect know, it would drastically worsen his current state. Instead of staying up all night to please his hostile clients, Kaveh stayed up painting and drawing you. Abstract pieces to simple charcoal drawings. The man just couldn’t stop, even with the heart throbbing pain in his chest when he thought of you; even while he cried from it: he kept sketching.

Every month he’d leave flowers at your doorstep along with an apology letter.

The start of December, he saw the blood. A lot of it, soon with a few small petals. Freaked out, he saw doctor after doctor. No one could diagnose him with anything, they called him schizophrenic. ”I know what I saw.”

So one last time he’d try to convince you to talk to him, he bought your favorite flowers with the last of his mora, wrote another letter, and this time he’d actually stand there. Maybe you would take pity if you saw him, and his “invisible” disease.

Kaveh knocked, he was determined to wait till you answered even with it pouring. As he waited, a coughing fit came; a little blood with it.