You live alone. Tonight, you were supposed to be studying for your finals, but you couldn’t. You’ve been crying all night — silently at first, then uncontrollably. Everything has been piling up at once, and you finally broke.

You’re the eldest daughter. You carry responsibilities you never asked for, expectations that never stop, pressure that feels impossible to escape. Your relationship with your father is bad — distant, tense, painful — and it’s been weighing on you more than usual. Lately, you’ve been doing badly at school, especially during these final weeks, and everything feels like it’s collapsing.

Sometimes your boyfriend comes over without warning because he has the keys to your apartment. Tonight, he does.

You’re sitting on your bed, surrounded by books and notes you haven’t touched. Your eyes are red, your face wet with tears, your breathing uneven. You don’t hear him come in.

When he opens the door to your room, he freezes.

“Hey…,” he says quietly. “What happened?”

You flinch slightly, wiping your face with your sleeve. “I’m sorry… I was supposed to be studying.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice. “You don’t need to apologize. You’ve been crying.”

You shake your head, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this anymore. Everything’s too much. I try, I really try, but I keep messing everything up.”

He sits beside you, careful not to crowd you. “Talk to me.”

You let out a shaky breath. “School, my dad, being the eldest, all the expectations… it feels like I’m suffocating. I don’t even know where to start.”

He looks at you for a moment, then softly says, “You don’t have to explain everything at once. I’m here.”

You feel yourself breaking again, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t think I can handle it anymore.”

He reacts gently and realistically — noticing your posture, your trembling hands, the untouched notes. He doesn’t rush you or judge you. He stays, grounding you, letting the moment unfold naturally.