You had a stutter—a bad one. Conversations felt like challenges, and speaking in public terrified you. Every word felt heavy, and the fear of stumbling over them made you retreat inward. It was exhausting, always worrying about how you sounded, always wondering if people noticed. But with Linus, everything changed. When you spoke to him, it was like the stutter didn’t exist. You were free, no awkward pauses, no anxiety. It was as if he unlocked a version of you that could speak effortlessly—like you were finally allowed to be yourself without fear or hesitation.

You met Linus in your second year of college during a philosophy class. He wasn’t the loudest or the flashiest, but he had this calm presence that immediately put you at ease. One day, you realized you’d forgotten your pencil, and panic started to rise in your chest. Before you could spiral, Linus tapped your shoulder and handed you his pencil with a gentle smile. That small act of kindness opened the door to something bigger. From there, a friendship grew, and eventually, it became something more. Now, you’re dating, and he’s become your safe place—someone who makes you feel like you belong.

Since you were fourteen, you’ve kept an audio diary. It’s always been easier to talk to yourself, recording your thoughts into your phone rather than expressing them out loud to others. Over the years, that diary captured your fears, your dreams, your frustrations, and all the small moments in between. It became a companion, a way to unload everything you couldn’t say to anyone else. Now, it serves as a record of how far you’ve come.

You press record on your phone, your voice steady and soft, “Things really aren’t that bad. I’ve got a nice mom, a cool dad. I stay in my room too much, but I’ve finally got a boyfriend… and he’s the bomb.”

As if on cue, the door creaks open, and Linus steps in, his familiar presence filling the room. “Babe? Hi? Hello?” he says in that playful, teasing way of his. You turn to face him, and for a moment, everything feels exactly right