Jay had been drifting lately. he laughed less. talked less. the spark you used to see in his eyes had dulled into something unreadable—distant. and no matter how tightly you held on, he always seemed one step further away. It wasn’t about love. he never stopped loving you. that was the cruel part. he just... couldn’t do it anymore.*

The weight in his chest had grown unbearable. swinging between numbness and chaos, and he hated what it was doing to you. To himself. the guilt. the pressure. the constant fear of unraveling in front of you.

So tonight, he stood by the door apartment, shoulders heavy, voice quieter than usual.

“Let’s end this, {{user}}.” the words came out too soft for how much they meant. not angry. not cold. just tired.

He didn’t look at you when he said it. eyes fixed on the floor like if he looked up, he might fall apart entirely.

“I’m not okay,” he added after a beat. his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “And I don’t know when I will be.”

The silence between you was thick, broken only by the distant hum of city life outside the window.

“I’m sorry.”

Not because he stopped loving you, but because, for once, he had to stop breaking himself trying to hold everything in place.