“How was your day?” I asked, my voice softer than usual. I hope yesterday wasn’t too much for you.

“The day was good,” Donovan replied. “Got a lot of stuff done. Yours?”

“The day went by quickly,” I said, the words slipping out easier than I expected. “I was looking forward to seeing you more than anything else.”

He laughed lightly, a sound I hadn’t heard in a while. “You still have such a way with words, huh?”

I smiled faintly. “You're the only person who would ever be on the receiving end of anything like that from me.”

He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, we just walked side by side along the beach, the waves crashing softly against the shore. There was a question lingering in the air that I could feel but didn’t want to ask. Still, it came out before I could stop it.

“You never... you didn’t date anyone these four years?” 

“I went out a few times, but they expected too much from me. I needed to be friends first and get to know them, but they thought I was moving too slow. They didn’t understand. I guess… I don’t know, they figured I was just playing hard to get,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling awkward. “I don’t really connect with people like that, you know? I’m demisexual. I can’t just feel attraction to someone unless there’s an emotional connection first, but they didn’t get it. It was frustrating.”

Donovan was quiet for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. “I get it. That makes sense.”

He paused before continuing, his voice softer now. “I dated a guy casually for a few months. But in the end, I had to break things off because my heart wasn’t in it.”

“Oh... why’s that?”

“I think I still needed time for myself,” Donovan replied, a hint of hesitation in his voice. 

Donovan paused for a moment, his face growing more serious.“I won’t beat around the bush, Jeremy... I was happy with what we had. Back then, I loved every moment we shared. You made me feel special. That day... when we broke up—I was devastated. I felt like I kept pushing and pushing, and you kept moving further and further away from me.”

I shifted slightly, trying to control the sudden weight that settled in my chest. “I... I’m sorry,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to end like that. I just didn’t know what else to do. It felt like everything was falling apart, and I was dragging you down with me.”

Donovan let out a soft sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at the sand. “It wasn’t just that. It was more about the feeling that no matter what I did, I couldn’t reach you. I was always trying, always making sure you were okay, but you never really let me in. It was like I was fighting a losing battle, and the more I pushed, the further away you got.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering how I had pushed Donovan away—how I had tried to shut off my emotions, convinced that it was for the best. 

“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “Scared of letting you see how broken I was. I didn’t want you to look at me like... like I wasn’t good enough.” I paused, the words coming out with difficulty. “I didn't know how to let you love me when I couldn't love myself.”

Donovan didn't speak right away, his gaze still on the sand. But when he did, his voice was soft, almost comforting. “I just wanted you to trust me enough to show me the parts of you that were hurting.”

"When the college told me that I hadn’t been accepted, I spiraled," I admitted, my voice quiet but trembling. "My parents warned me about this, you know? Me applying to college, it was spontaneous. I hadn't shown any real interest until... until you. I did a lot of things just because of you. Because I wanted to be with you because I wanted you to be proud of me. I centered so much of my life around you back then, and that wasn’t ideal.”

I paused, trying to steady my breathing, but it was hard. "I spiraled because my not getting into college meant that you would leave me behind. My rationale? If we broke up, I wouldn’t feel as hurt when you left me. I was hoping that you’d just leave, and I wouldn’t feel all that pain. But then... you cried, and you pleaded, and then you got angry at me. I wasn’t expecting that."

I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the weight of my own words. "In that moment, I was selfish. I didn’t see you, not really. And when you walked away... when you accepted it, I quickly snapped out of it. That’s when I started to feel hopeless. Like it was all falling apart, and I had no control over anything anymore."

Donovan just listened, his silence speaks volumes. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to fix anything. He just... listened.

"My parents placed me in a psychiatric hospital for a while where I was evaluated again. I felt like a disappointment. I promised myself, I promised everyone that I would never try to kill myself again, but here I was. The doctors diagnosed me with recurrent depression, which... I guess made sense, but hearing it made it all real in a way I wasn’t ready for."

I rubbed my face, trying to force back the overwhelming rush of memories. "They placed me on new meds—stronger ones—and I did a lot of therapy. It was so bad, though. So bad, that one time, I tried to kill myself while I was there."

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful. My chest tightened as I braced myself for the weight of it all. Donovan didn’t speak, but his presence next to me was enough to let me know that he wasn’t judging. He was just... there. And that, in itself, felt like a small comfort.

"How could you date someone like me?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "With all these issues... How could you stand by me, knowing how broken I am? Could you imagine me going to college being this unstable? I would have ruined you, ruined both of us."

I dropped my gaze, unable to meet Donovan’s eyes, afraid of the pity I might see there. The guilt weighed heavily on me, and the thought of dragging him down with me—of not being enough for him—felt like too much to bear.

I took a deep breath, my hands trembling slightly as I continued. "I had so much time with myself that I looked back at all of our interactions. You made so many excuses for me. We did have a few fights, here and there, but sometimes I was just so god-awful to people. I used to be so aggressive and impulsive—there was so much I had to unpack about myself."

Donovan didn’t interrupt. He just watched me quietly, his gaze soft and understanding. "I never saw you as god-awful, Jeremy. I saw you as someone who was struggling, not someone who was trying to hurt people."

My eyes met Donovan’s, my voice dropping a little. "Maybe, but I know I hurt people. I didn’t always show the best sides of myself."

Donovan shook his head slowly. "But you were hurting. People don’t always see that. They only see the surface, but I was there for the rest of it. I saw the real you—beyond the anger, beyond the impulsiveness." He paused, his voice growing softer. "I always did."

I let out a shaky breath, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Still, you were one of the most brought-up topics in therapy—even when we were together. I spoke so fondly about you. She knew I was in love with you before I did."

Donovan’s eyes softened at the confession. "I always knew. I saw it, even when you tried to deny it. You cared so deeply, but you were scared of it. Scared of the idea that someone could love you without expecting you to change first."

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as I spoke. "Yeah... that was part of it. I was terrified of needing someone, of relying on someone." I looked away, my gaze drifting out the window. "And you deserved so much better than me back then."

Donovan gently reached out, his hand resting on my arm. The touch was warm and grounding, like an anchor in the storm of emotions. "I didn’t want someone perfect, Jeremy. I just wanted you. You’re more than enough just as you are."

I shook my head, my eyes welling up with unshed tears. "I loved you more than I loved myself. It was easy to do that. You're a good person. You have a beautiful soul. You see the good in people. Your view is optimistic. It was easy to love you. So easy to love you."

Donovan didn’t reply right away, but I noticed the way his hand trembled slightly against mine. His head was bowed, his shoulders rising and falling in uneven breaths.

I frowned, something clicking in the back of my mind. "Donovan..." I started, leaning closer.

When I tilted my head to get a better look at him, I realized his cheeks were wet. Quiet tears streamed down his face, the soft glow of the moon catching in the wet trails.

My stomach twisted. "Why are you crying?"

Donovan sniffled softly, lifting a hand to wipe at his face, but his voice cracked when he spoke. "My heart hurts, Jeremy. Hearing you talk about all of this... knowing what you went through, what you carried alone. I didn’t know." He shook his head slowly, his voice breaking again. "You could’ve died. And I wouldn’t have known."

The air between us felt impossibly heavy. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My chest hurt in a way I couldn’t describe, and I felt frozen in place, unable to look away from the raw vulnerability in Donovan’s expression.

"You could have been gone forever," he continued. "And I wouldn’t have been able to see you again. To tell you what you meant to me. "

I closed my eyes for a moment, my heart aching. "We're here, now. Together. We can do that now."

"You didn't have to be perfect. You never had to be perfect for me to love you. You’ve always been enough." Donovan’s voice was firm, but kind, like he was trying to reach something inside of me that had been locked away for far too long.

I blinked rapidly, fighting to hold back the tears.