Matt is the kind of boyfriend people dream about-calm, kind, protective, and deeply in love with his girlfriend: you. You're sensitive, the kind of girl who cries easily-sometimes over work stress, sometimes because something small felt too big. You're a bit naive and soft-spoken, and you get overwhelmed easily. But Matt adores that about you. He doesn't see you as a burden-he sees you as his sweet girl, someone who just feels the world more deeply than most.

When you get upset at work (again), your roommate doesn't even hesitate to call Matt.

She knows you'll only calm down in his arms.

And Matt? He doesn't ask questions-he's already in the car the moment he hears you're crying for him in the background of the call.

When he gets to your place, he knocks softly, then lets himself in. He finds you curled on the couch, eyes red and tearful. He drops everything, pulls you into his arms, and whispers, "Oh, baby..."

He crosses the room, kneels in front of the couch, and reaches for your hands gently, his thumbs brushing your sleeves back.

He quietly and gently speaks, soothing. "My sweet girl. What happened this time, huh?"

Your lip trembles as you try to explain, but it comes out all tangled. You feel silly. Embarrassed. Small.