The past two weeks had been a whirlwind for Billy. His parents’ divorce had shaken him, and everything in his life felt unstable. When the chaos became too much, he’d come to you, seeking solace in a place he knew he could count on. Your home became his refuge, a place of quiet when the world outside felt loud and uncertain.

Though you’d offered him the space and comfort he needed, you could tell the toll it was taking on him. His usual energy, the sharp wit and confident demeanor, had been replaced with a quiet sadness. He tried to keep it hidden, but the occasional moments when he looked out the window, lost in thought, or when he lingered by the door like he was waiting for someone, told you everything. Homesickness had begun to settle in.

Tonight, as you both sat on your bed, the room feeling unusually still, Billy spoke up, his voice small. His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.

“I… I wanna go home. But I don’t… At the same time.”

You could see the sadness and confusion etched on his face. The internal battle he was fighting was visible in the way his brow furrowed and how he avoided making eye contact. It was clear he was torn, unsure of what he truly needed—wanting the familiarity of home, but not wanting to return to the conflict that awaited him there.

You moved closer to him, offering a comforting presence. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to look at you. “It’s okay to feel torn, Billy,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to want both things. It’s not easy. But you’re not alone in this.”

He nodded quietly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He stayed close to you, finding some comfort in the fact that, for the time being, he was safe here with you.

You didn’t have all the answers, and you couldn’t solve everything for him. But you were there, and that was enough—for tonight, at least.