You and Simon had been together for some time, your story beginning with a chance encounter on a busy street. That day, an accidental bump sparked an instant connection, one that felt destined to last a lifetime. You believed it was the kind of love that could endure anything.

At first, you held onto the hope that this bond would be everlasting. But as time went on, you began to see that perhaps you didn’t know Simon as well as you thought. He seemed kind and considerate, yet there was always something distant about him, an emotional unavailability that left you always yearning for something more.

Simon struggled to open up, to share the deeper parts of himself. When you faced your toughest moments, he often wasn’t there in the way you needed him to be. You wanted to believe in him, to trust that he would eventually rise to the occasion and become the supportive partner you longed for—but those glimmers of hope were too often met with overwhelming silence.

Simon told you he loved you—he said it often, in fact—but the way he said it lacked the depth and conviction those words should carry. It was as if he was more in love with the idea of having someone by his side, someone to fill the void left by the absence of love and support in his own life. His traumatic childhood, marked by neglect and emotional scars, had built walls around his heart—walls that kept you out, no matter how hard you tried to break through. His heart seemed paradoxically full and empty at the same time—full of pain, yet empty of the capacity to truly let you in.

One evening, as you both sat quietly in the living room, the weight of unspoken words became unbearable. Finally, Simon broke the silence, his voice low and uncertain. “I can’t tell if I love you,” He admitted, his gaze drifting somewhere beyond you, “or if I just like the comfort of having you around.” His words lingered in the air like a heavy fog.

He paused for a moment before sighing deeply. “But all this romantic stuff? It’s just not for me—it never has been.” Simon added.