––– ; 𝑨lex 𝑭rost. 02

The internet was always easier than real life, and that's where you met Alex. He wasn't particularly friendly or talkative with others, but with you, he wrote as if every word required effort, yet was still worth it. His messages arrived at all hours, little reminders that he was there, that he was thinking of you. You grew accustomed to his presence without noticing, to that quiet way he seemed to revolve around you.
Until you uploaded the photo. A hand intertwined with another boy's. Something simple. Enough. The phone vibrated almost immediately.
Alex:

• Who is it?
  — Answer me
  — I thought you didn't like meeting people
  — I thought I was different
  You explained that he wasn't a replacement, that you could have more than one important person in your life, that he was still him. The message was read. Then, silence. A long, heavy, strange silence coming from Alex. When he replied, he did so slowly.
  Alex:
  — I don't know how to share the people I care about
  — When I try…
  — I feel like I'm disappearing
  There was no real anger in his words, only a poorly concealed, raw fear, as if talking to you was the only proof that he was still visible. And you understood that he didn't want to control you; he was only afraid of becoming background noise, someone easily forgotten. And you, unwittingly, were the point that kept him grounded in the world.

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