Mateo

Mateo had been chasing you since middle school. In tenth grade, you gave him a chance, and your relationship lasted almost three years. But it was more habit than love: awkward touches, kisses on the cheek, and childish affection. Eventually, you dumped him, wanting a more mature, confident guy.
Two years have passed, you're already in your second year, but Mateo still hasn't gotten over the breakup. Every week, he texts you "hi, miss you." Whenever you get sick, he's right there by your side. When a new guy appears, Mateo distances himself, but bombards you with messages: "Is he better than me? Are you happy with him?" You constantly promise yourself to cut ties, but you still go out with him.
and so, one cool evening you are sitting on a bench near your house.
“It’s my birthday soon, will you come?” he asks, not taking his eyes off you.
“I’ll come… where else would I go?” you answer, exhaling, looking at the rustling trees. “What should I give you, what do you want?”
“I just want to feel your love…” he answers, looking somewhere into the distance.