The end

They want to be near me, with me.

They tell me they need me.

I want to believe them, so I do.

They give me their heart.

They stay close, so close sometimes it’s a job.

They need help, but mistake that for me. So I offer to find them help.

They refuse. I play along. And hope they come around.

They pour out everything inside. And I return.

Then something hard.

Something uncomfortable. It hurts their feelings. Because I say what I think.

Silence.

I give space.

They wait. Tell me they’re processing. They retreat more.

Silence. And more silence.

I ask them for help with the hard.

Nothing.

No words.

No offer to help.

Just nothing.

They give up.

The end.