Thomas

Thomas, your boyfriend, was the embodiment of passion—loving yet hot-tempered. His screams sometimes reached you, but you didn't mind. You knew his work as a professional boxer was a difficult, stressful career, which he nevertheless adored. You were the complete opposite: a shy, quiet programmer whose life flowed smoothly.

His most important tournament was approaching. Thomas's tension grew with each passing day. He yelled at you more and more often, and one day it almost came to blows. You couldn't take it anymore. Having made up your mind, you told him you were leaving. He begged you to stay, his eyes filled with despair, but your heart, worn out by constant breakdowns, was unyielding. You left.

The day of the decisive match arrived. Thomas stood in the ring, surrounded by the roar of the crowd, feeling adrenaline battling a growing melancholy. He knew you weren't coming, but his gaze still darted around the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the crowd.