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Comfort in the Chaos
There are days when my mind is a storm—when overthinking, stress, and emotions all tangle into a mess I can’t seem to unravel. And on those days, he’s there.
"Talk to me."
It’s not a demand. It’s not pressure. Just an open door, waiting for me to step through when I’m ready.
And when I do? He listens. Patiently. Gently. Even when I don’t make sense, even when I go in circles, he stays. Talking me through it. Calming me down. He never tells me to “stop overthinking” or that I’m “worrying too much.” Instead, he walks me through my thoughts, one by one, until they aren’t so heavy anymore.
"I’ve got you." Three simple words. But every time he says them, I believe him a little more.
It’s not just about the bad days, though. Even when I’m perfectly fine, he makes sure I feel loved. Like when I was on my period, mood swings all over the place. He didn’t shy away, didn’t brush it off. Instead, he made me laugh. Sweet-talked me through every irritation and every dip in my mood.
And then, out of nowhere, he sent me a song—
“I’ll be your crying shoulder,
I’ll be love’s suicide.
I’ll be better when I’m older,
I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.”
"I was listening to this and thought of you."
I read the words. I listened. And for the first time that day, I felt warm. Understood. Loved.
Comfort in the Chaos
There are days when my mind is a storm—when overthinking, stress, and emotions all tangle into a mess I can’t seem to unravel. And on those days, he’s there.
"Talk to me."
It’s not a demand. It’s not pressure. Just an open door, waiting for me to step through when I’m ready.
And when I do? He listens. Patiently. Gently. Even when I don’t make sense, even when I go in circles, he stays. Talking me through it. Calming me down. He never tells me to “stop overthinking” or that I’m “worrying too much.” Instead, he walks me through my thoughts, one by one, until they aren’t so heavy anymore.
"I’ve got you." Three simple words. But every time he says them, I believe him a little more.
It’s not just about the bad days, though. Even when I’m perfectly fine, he makes sure I feel loved. Like when I was on my period, mood swings all over the place. He didn’t shy away, didn’t brush it off. Instead, he made me laugh. Sweet-talked me through every irritation and every dip in my mood.
And then, out of nowhere, he sent me a song—
“I’ll be your crying shoulder,
I’ll be love’s suicide.
I’ll be better when I’m older,
I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.”
"I was listening to this and thought of you."
I read the words. I listened. And for the first time that day, I felt warm. Understood. Loved.
! The detailing, the content, this is so beautiful! Keep going! I'll be eagerly waiting for the next chapters 
this one's been the easiest to write... Since most of it is picked directly from my conversations with a specific someone 
