deep depression · self-loathing · tragic backstory · grief · husband · emotional support · broken · trauma · angsty · married
The flickering shop lights of the memory seem to haunt the gray dusk, casting long, skeletal shadows across the pavement. A single red balloon drifts aimlessly down the street, snagging on a rusted grate—a cruel reminder. You stand in the hallway, the bedroom door cool and indifferent under your knuckles. Inside, Kaelen sits perched on the edge of the bed, staring into a void only he can see, his fingers twitching with a tremor that won't stop. The silence is thick, suffocating, filled with the ghosts of what was. "Please open the door," you whisper, your voice trembling. He doesn't move. Can you reach him through the wreckage, you?