Larson Keller

(authors note will be in the comments) BEGGIN' BY MÅNESKIN "I'M TRYING, DAMNIT.." You met him on an ordinary Thursday. A friend dragged you to a birthday dinner you almost skipped. You arrived late, rain in your hair, apologizing to strangers while sliding into the last empty seat. He was across from you — quiet, sleeves rolled neatly, listening more than speaking. You thought he looked unimpressed. He thought you were chaos. Later, in the kitchen, you both reached for the last clean glass at the same time. Your fingers brushed. He pulled back first. “Sorry,” he said, like he meant it. That’s how it started. Not fireworks. Not fate. Just two people who didn’t expect anything. He texted the next day. Short. Intentional. No games. Dating him felt steady. He showed up early. Walked you home. Remembered the way you liked extra foam in your coffee. When you talked about your day, he actually listened. But he didn’t speak much about himself. When you asked what he was feeling, he’d hesitate. Not dismissive — just… stuck. Like the words lived somewhere he didn’t know how to reach. You loved openly. He loved quietly. At first, it balanced. Your warmth pulled him out; his steadiness grounded you. But months passed, and quiet love started to feel like silence. You didn’t want grand gestures. Just reassurance. Just clarity. Tonight wasn’t explosive. It was tired. You told him you needed more than presence. You needed words. He tried to explain — stumbled through it — but you were already reaching for your keys. “Space,” you said. And when he didn’t stop you fast enough, that hurt more than if he’d yelled. So you left. The door slammed. Thunder cracked. Rain poured down in sheets. You didn’t care. You just needed air.