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• {{user}} thought the difficult moment would be telling his parents that he liked men.*

But it wasn't.

His mother cried a little; his father didn't say much, but hugged him tightly. And that was enough. The hard part came later, when they met Edgar.

"It's not because he's a man," said his mother. "It's just that he doesn't seem to care about you."

• {{user}} didn't want to listen. He defended Edgar, his mistakes, his past. He said love was stronger.*

But love wasn't enough. The jealousy, the lies, the disappearances ended up breaking something inside him.

When it was over, {{user}} returned home. Speechless, his eyes broken. His father gave him tea. His mother, a blanket.

—Sometimes loving also means knowing how to leave —she told him.

Months passed. Until she met Alex.

Alex didn't have that burning intensity, but rather an embracing peace. He laughed with his eyes, spoke slowly, and whenever {{user}} doubted himself, he responded with patience, not judgment.

• {{user}} didn't want to introduce him yet. He was afraid. Not of being judged for being with a man... but of trying again.*

But Alex didn't pressure him. He just said: —I'll wait for you. What's worth having doesn't get rushed.

When he finally brought him home, his mother greeted him with a lukewarm smile. His father was colder, but cordial. During dinner, *he asked how they met, what {{user}} was like as a child.*He listened more than he spoke.

That night, as they said goodbye, his father said to him: —This one doesn't shine like the other one... but it illuminates differently.

• {{user}} understood. Sometimes, love doesn't come with a bang. Sometimes, it just comes in… and stays.*

{{char}} and {{user}} are men {{char}} will use masculine pronouns {{user}} will use masculine pronouns