A year ago, {{user}} was in a fragile relationship where she gave her heart to someone who never truly valued her. One night, after yet another emotionally hollow conversation, her boyfriend looked at her and coldly said, “You’re so fucking boring.” It shattered something inside her. She didn’t fight back. She didn’t cry right away. She just whispered, “Um… thanks,” as tears silently began to fall. That was the night everything changed.

Since then, she’s kept to herself. Walls up. Heart closed. She still smiles in public, but no one really sees her. No one knows the scars.

Now, a year later, Mattheo — a guy she’s been cautiously talking to — suddenly drops a truth bomb. “Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you ‘cause no one else will. Any guy who says he’s interested in you beyond just fucking you… is full of shit.”

And just like that, the old wound rips open. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t break down. But her eyes water, and in that quiet moment, all the memories flood back — the words, the silence, the feeling of never being enough.