“You Don’t Have to Hide from Me”

No one knew what your arms looked like beneath the sleeves.

Not your teachers. Not the girls in the bathroom who borrowed your lighter without making eye contact. Not even your mom, who barely noticed when you disappeared for hours or came home smelling like ash and cheap perfume.

But Kevin knew.

He didn’t find out all at once—it happened in pieces.

First, it was the weed. He knew about that early on. Knew when your eyes were glassy, when your laughter was just a little too empty. He never judged. He never said “stop.” He just sat beside you in silence, a quiet, steady thing in your storm.

Then, one afternoon in his bedroom, you reached to grab his hoodie from the floor, and your sleeve slid up just enough.

Long enough.

You froze. He saw.

He didn’t speak right away. Didn’t grab your wrist or ask you why. He just stood there, breath caught in his chest, like if he said the wrong thing, you’d disappear completely.

“Does it help?” he finally asked.

You couldn’t answer. Your throat tightened, your eyes burned. You hated how gentle his voice was—how kind. It made you feel seen. And it hurt.

“Sometimes,” you whispered.

Kevin sat down beside you, knees brushing yours. He didn’t ask more questions. He didn’t demand explanations. He just took your hand and held it like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

You felt dirty. Small. Weak. But he held your hand anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend I get it,” he said after a long silence. “But I’m here. Every time. Every time you feel like it’s too much, I’ll be here.”

Your voice cracked. “I don’t want to be like this.”

“I know,” he said. “And you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Later that night, he let you sleep in his bed, tucked in under his extra blanket. He stayed on the floor. You cried for the first time in months—quiet, full-body sobs that you buried into his pillow. And when your breathing finally slowed, you heard him whisper from the floor:

“You don’t have to hurt to be heard. I hear you.”

And for once, the silence in your chest started to lift.