Love worth fighting for is a story about a girl named Angelina and her boyfriend Mason. Angelina struggles with her mental health and all Mason wants to do is help. This story follows the journey of the two of them as their relationship grows and th...
Lying there, I closed my eyes, wishing I could rewind time to that moment on the porch. When Mason smiled at me. The way he made everything seem easy and light and like everything was going to be ok. I had opened up to him, shared pieces of myself I usually kept hidden away. But now, I couldn't help but feel like I was letting him down. I thought about the laughter we had shared, the way he listened as if every word mattered. I wanted to give him that again, but it felt impossible at this moment.
With a shaky breath, I reached for my phone, deciding to at least read what he had sent. I saw a new message waiting for me-
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My heart twisted in pain. How could he be so patient, so understanding?
I felt the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I blinked them back, unwilling to let them spill. It wasn't fair to him. The last thing I wanted was to pull him into my mess.
I took a deep breath and typed out a response.
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But as soon as I hit send, the guilt washed over me again. What kind of answer was that? It felt so vague and evasive. It was a half-hearted attempt to connect is what it is. A half-hearted attempt when all I wanted to do was retreat further into my shell.
The phone buzzed almost instantly.
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I bit my lip hard, fighting against the swell of tears that threatened to spill. Mason's kindness felt like a lifeline, but I also felt unworthy of it. I dropped my phone onto the bed again and buried my face in my hands, letting the wave of despair wash over me. I didn't want to be a burden. I wanted to be the person who made Mason smile, the one who could laugh freely and explore the world with him. But right now, I can barely be myself.
As the day wasted away, I knew I had to confront the weight pressing down on me. Because if I don't it might just suffocate me. I needed to reach out to him, to be honest to him. But that meant facing my fears. The fear of disappointing him, of dragging him down into my darkness. It was a battle I had fought countless times on my own. Is it selfish to bring him into this? Am I strong enough to see the disappointment on his face?
Yet, somewhere in that vast sea of emotions, a flicker of hope stayed lit. Maybe, just maybe, I could learn to let him in. But for now, I lay back down, the weight still pressing on me, wishing for the courage to open up.
