Anxiety gathered like storm clouds behind his ribs.
He stared at his phone.
What could I write? What could I say?
Every sentence felt too small. Every word seemed destined to fall short of everything his heart had been carrying.
He feared becoming a notification she sighed at, another message arriving at the wrong moment. He had always hated feeling like a burden, so he wrestled with silence, wondering if saying nothing was somehow kinder.
But anxiety is a talented storyteller. It weaves convincing fictions from unanswered moments and fills empty spaces with doubt.
Then, beneath the noise, beneath every imagined outcome, there was something quieter.
A truth.
His heart had known it long before his mind learned to trust it.
Love was never measured by perfect words.
Sometimes the bravest thing a person could do was simply speak honestly, and trust that the right heart would understand what even the most beautiful sentences never could.
