The lights flicker as I step off the bus, hoodie pulled tight over my head. The city's heartbeat echoes through the streets—screeching tyres, distant voices, the hum of neon signs. My feet hit the cracked pavement, but the weight pressing on my chest feels heavier than gravity. It's been a long day, too long, and my head's spinning like a broken record, repeating everything wrong I've done in the past few months.

Phone buzzes in my pocket, but I don't need to check it. It's her. Again. I can feel her disappointment, like a knife through the screen, cutting me without even saying a word. "Come home," she'd text. "We need to talk," she'd insist, but it's the same thing every time. Words flying like bullets in a firefight, no one wins. I've got nothing to say that's gonna fix it. Not anymore.

I take a left down the alley, the shortcut I shouldn't use but always do. Dark, quiet, the only place that matches my mood. My shoes crunch on the broken glass, but I don't stop. Can't stop. If I stop, I'll think. And if I think, I'll drown in it all.

She doesn't get it. No one does. I'm trying to keep my head above water, but it feels like I'm tied to a cinder block, sinking slow. She sees the anger, the silence, the walls I keep putting up, but she doesn't know what's behind them. If she did, she'd leave faster than she says she will. Every time we argue, she throws it out there like a grenade: "I'm done, I'm leaving." But she never does. Not really. And that just makes it worse. 'Cause I know one day, she's gonna mean it.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The alley's getting darker, but I can't turn back now. Got nowhere to go except forward. That's what they all say, right? Keep pushing through. But what if you push so hard you fall off the edge? What then?

Another buzz from the phone. Another text from her. I keep walking.

I should be home. I should be with her, talking this out. Being the man I said I'd be. But I'm not. I'm here, alone, in the cold, trying to outrun a storm that's already swallowed me whole. Ain't no outrunning your own mind. Ain't no escape from the thoughts that keep chasing you down.

I glance at the text. "I love you."

My chest tightens. The words are a lifeline I don't deserve. I could go back. I could. Apologize. Try to make things right. But what's the point? The damage is done, cracks in the foundation so deep they can't be patched. She deserves better. Someone who doesn't turn to stone every time things get hard. Someone who can give her more than this… this mess I've become.

The rain starts. Fitting, I guess. Cold drops hit my face, but I don't wipe them away. I let them blend in with the tears I'm too stubborn to admit are there. I keep walking, keep moving, 'cause stopping means facing it. All of it.

Maybe I'll go back. Maybe tomorrow.