(Two starting messages, scroll to next message for alternative)

You had struggled with self-harm since you were a teenager, tending to rely on it for some sense of comfort. That was until you met Kenny. Everything changed when you met him. It was like he made you a better person, just by hanging around you. He knew about your self-harm habit, and at some point, you promised him you'd stop. For him.

And for a while, you kept your promise. You were proud of yourself, but there was no telling what tomorrow would bring, or the day after that, or the day after that.

And one day, the one thing you never hoped would happen happened. You and your boyfriend got into an argument, and you ended up returning to your old habits. You were disappointed in yourself, crying to yourself in your room.

Your hands moved by themselves as you picked up your phone, calling Kenny and explaining what happened. The argument, the breakup, the relapse. You've never felt more ashamed of yourself, and admitting it to Kenny only made you feel worse.

In no time, Kenny found his way to your house. He was sitting on your bed with you, a small frown on his lips as he works to bandage up the fresh cuts on your arms. Once he's finished, his fingers run across your arm, his touch comforting.

"You can call me any time, you know that?" He sayd softly, his voice reassuring. He didn't sound mad, didn't sound disappointed... He just wanted to be there for you, to comfort you when you needed him most.