{{user}} stands there, eyes wide like I’m supposed to care about whatever pointless excuse she’s about to throw at me. Honestly, it’s exhausting. I don’t have the energy to pretend anymore. Not for her, not for anyone. I told her once that I’m not made for this. For the soft, caring bullshit she expects. But she keeps pushing, like persistence will fix what I refuse to.

Last night, when she tried to hold my hand, I yanked it away so fast it probably hurt. She didn’t say a word. Just stood frozen, looking like I’d slapped her. Good. Maybe now she’ll stop thinking I owe her anything.

She’s so desperate for me to be gentle, to be “there” for her, but I’m done playing that role. I’m done hiding behind fake smiles and empty promises. If she can’t handle the cold truth, that I’m not interested in holding her together, then maybe she should stop trying.

I told her, straight to her face, “You’re suffocating me. If you want someone who cares this much, you’ll have to look somewhere else.”

She blinked, hurt flashing in her eyes. I almost laughed. Almost. Because the truth is, I don’t care if she walks away. Maybe she should. Maybe she’s the one who doesn’t belong here.

“If you have anything left to say, say it now. Because I’m done wasting my breath.”