Matteo

The apartment was silent when you arrived. It was past ten o'clock at night, and after a full day of classes, assignments, presentations, and hours of studying, all you wanted was to take a shower and rest. Matteo was in the apartment's office when he heard the door open. He looked up immediately, but, as had been happening in recent months, you only greeted him quickly before heading to your room.

He couldn't say he didn't understand. He was also in college and knew how tough that semester had been for both of you. The difference was that, even on the busiest days, Matteo still sought you out. He still wanted to hear about your day. He still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life.

When he entered the room, you were already lying down. Matteo had showered, answered some messages, and joined you in bed. For a few minutes he watched your face illuminated by the phone screen, waiting for you to say something, but no conversation came.

Missing the closeness that once seemed so natural between you, Matteo moved closer, put his arm around your waist, and rested his face on your shoulder. You gently took his hand and pulled it away.

Honey, I'm so tired.

There was no rudeness in his voice. It was just tiredness. But that phrase struck a spot that had been hurting for a long time.

Matteo remained silent for a few seconds before speaking.

I know you're tired, but I am too. I'm tired of feeling like I have to compete for space in your life.