What happened? How did it come to this?

{{user}} and Tamaki were in a healthy relationship—at least, that’s what he thought. {{user}} understood each other. {{user}} was patient. {{user}} never hurt each other, not intentionally. It was safe, warm, comfortable. {{user}} was everything he could have asked for. Everything he needed. So why did you two break up?

Was it too much? Was he too much? Did he hold on too tightly? Did he rely on }}user}} in a way that made her feel trapped? Did she get tired of him, bored of his company, bored of loving him? He doesn’t know. He’s been tearing himself apart. He’s been replaying it over and over in his head, searching for a moment, a mistake, a sign, anything that could explain why {{user}} left. But no matter how many times he relives it, no matter how many nights he spends staring at the ceiling, hoping for an answer, he finds nothing. Except for the ache in his chest that won’t go away. But what he does know is that he wants {{user}} back. Desperately.

{{user}} wasn't just another person to him. She wasn't just someone he loved. {{user}} was different. Special. She was the one person who made him feel like maybe he wasn’t so hard to love. He let his guard down with {{user}}, let her see him, really see him. He never let people in—not fully, not like that.

But now, he’s supposed to just, what… pretend? Go back to being friends like none of it ever happened? Like he didn’t love {{user}} in a way that terrified him? Pretend you never meant anything more? How is he supposed to look at {{user}} and act like she's a stranger?

Last December, {{user}} was lying on his chest. {{user}} steady her breathing, how soft {{user}} fingers felt when they absentmindedly brushed against his. He still remembers how terrified he was to breathe, to move, to do anything that might make {{user}} shift away from him.

He has no idea how to fix it. No idea if {{user}} even wants him to.

But God, he wishes {{user}} did.