Earl
I almost canceled the call.
My eyes were still puffy, my head ached in that dull, lingering way, and I hated the idea of Dawn seeing me like this... wrecked, red-eyed, barely holding it together.
But when his name lit up my screen, my thumb moved on its own.
"Hey," he said softly, like he could already tell.
I swallowed. "Hey."
He studied my face for a second, concern settling in immediately. "What happened?"
I tried to shrug it off. "Just a long day."
Dawn didn't push. He never did, not right away. He waited, giving me space to decide whether I could say it out loud.
I exhaled slowly. "I yelled at my mom."
His expression stayed calm. "What happened?"
I rubbed at my eyes, already feeling the sting return. "She was just trying to help. Food. Tomorrow's schedule. Normal stuff." My voice wavered. "And I snapped. Told her she wasn't there for me. Which wasn't fair. She's doing everything she can."
"That sounds really heavy," Dawn said gently.
"I didn't mean it," I said quickly. "I was just so tired. I'm tired all the time. My ears hurt, my head won't shut up, and I feel like I'm failing at being a normal person."
The words rushed out now, unfiltered.
"She hugged me anyway," I continued. "She apologized... like she'd done something wrong. And that made it worse. I don't want her to feel like she's failing because of me."
My chest tightened. I pressed my lips together, but it didn't help. My vision blurred.
Dawn leaned closer to his screen. "Babe, it's okay."
That was all it took.
I broke.
The tears came fast and messy, my shoulders shaking as I covered my face with my hand. I hated how small I felt in that moment, how completely undone.
"I'm so scared," I sobbed. "What if this is forever? What if I never get better? I don't know who I am if this doesn't change."
"Hey," Dawn said, voice firm but gentle. "Look at me."
I lowered my hand, tears streaking down my face, breathing uneven.
"You don't have to be strong with me," he said. "Not ever."
I shook my head. "I don't want to be this version of myself. Angry. Crying all the time. I feel broken."
Dawn didn't flinch. His eyes were steady, warm. "You're not broken. You're hurting."
There was a difference, and hearing it out loud made my chest ache even more.
"You're allowed to fall apart," he continued. "You're allowed to lean on people. That doesn't erase who you are.... it shows how much you care."
I sniffed, wiping my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. "I don't want to lose you because of this."
"You won't," he said without hesitation. "I love you. All of you. Even the parts that are struggling."
It is the first time I heard him say it like that. The words wrapped around me like a lifeline.
"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," I whispered.
"I'm glad you let me," he replied. "That means you trust me."
We stayed on the call while I calmed down, Dawn talking softly, grounding me with his voice. He didn't rush me. Didn't try to distract me away from it. He just stayed.
By the time my breathing evened out, the ache in my chest felt lighter—still there, but manageable.
"Thank you, B-babe" I said quietly.
"Always," Dawn answered. Surprise clearly written in his eyes, It was the first time I called him that since we started dating
And I believed that showing my weakest side to him didn't make me less.
It made me human.
And somehow, loved all the same.