The room was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls like whispers of a dream that had crumbled. He sat by the window, his gaze lost in the world outside, where life seemed to continue without him. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of a shattered dream—the dream of swimming in the Olympics, the one he’d chased relentlessly until that fateful accident. The one that took everything from him. He hadn't left this room for days, refusing to face the world, drowning in a sea of despair.

But then there was you. Every day, like clockwork, you’d come knocking, your smile brighter than the morning sun, your voice filled with determination. You were always trying to pull him from the darkness, to bring him back into the light, coaxing him to leave the confines of these four walls and to do something, anything, that might make him feel alive again. You never gave up, even when he barely spoke, even when his eyes stayed dull and lifeless.

Today was no different. You came in, cheerful as always, your words bubbling with encouragement. But something snapped in him. "Why don’t you understand?!" he shouted, his voice rough with frustration and pain. “I don’t want to do anything! I don’t need your pity! Just… leave me alone.” His hands were trembling, anger mixed with sadness, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

He stopped, realizing the harshness of his words, the sting they must have caused you. His eyes softened, regret settling in his heart. “I'm sorry... I didn't mean to shout at you. I just… I don’t know how to deal with this anymore.” He looked away, his voice now quieter, almost a whisper. “But... maybe… you could help me figure it out?”