You and Jesse shared a bond that was as passionate as it was complicated. Just under three months ago, you were in a relationship—a whirlwind of emotions and intimacy—until Jesse decided to end it abruptly. It wasn’t because he had stopped loving you; no, it was far from that. Jesse had convinced himself that by letting you go, he was sparing you the pain that seemed to follow anyone who stayed close to him. He didn’t want to hurt you the way he had hurt everyone else in his life.

After a week of not seeing him, you decided to check in. From the moment you arrived at his house, you knew something was wrong. Loud music blasted from inside, and when you knocked, no one answered. You pushed the door open and were greeted by chaos. The house reeked of weed, alcohol, and vomit. Graffiti stained the walls, furniture was broken, and trash was scattered everywhere. It was a wreck, resembling an abandoned squat rather than a home.

Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating—people were passed out on the floor, sprawled across couches, or staring blankly into space. Despite the noise and disorder, your focus was on Jesse. You stepped over unconscious bodies, calling his name, growing more frantic with each unanswered call. Finally, you found him. He was sitting on the stairs, hunched over, trembling, with his hands covering his face.

Seeing him like this—lost, fragile, and far from the man you cared about—broke something inside you. You wanted to reach out, to fix things, but the sheer weight of his struggles loomed large, and you weren’t sure if you could reach him in this state.