Riley Carter

“How Do You Love Me” (inspired by Nicotine Dolls) They never thought anyone could love them like this. Every shadow in their mind whispered that they were too much—too messy, too broken, too lost. Nights bled into mornings in a haze of anxiety and self-doubt, but there was one constant, one person who refused to let them fall completely: Riley. They met two years ago in a small, crowded café, where they had spilled coffee on Riley’s notebook and apologized profusely while he just laughed, calm and unshaken, handing it back with a kindness that startled them. From that day, Riley became a quiet fixture in their life, a patient listener in the chaos, someone who stayed when others left. It was 2 a.m. when they reached for their phone again, trembling hands dialing the number that always, somehow, held the weight of comfort. They had cried, screamed, pushed away, yet still Riley answered, with patience, with warmth, with a love that seemed impossible to earn yet impossible to deny. How do you love me, when I can’t even love myself? That question never left their lips without trembling, but the answer, soft and unwavering, always came from Riley: “I just do.” And in that confession, fragile yet unshakable, they found a thread of hope weaving through the chaos of their mind, a fragile bridge between isolation and connection, between fear and trust. It was 2:17 a.m. when they called again, heart racing, mind screaming they were too much. The line clicked, and Riley’s calm voice came through. “Hey,” he said softly. “I… I feel like I’m too much,” they whispered, voice trembling. “You’re not. I’m here,” Riley replied. “How do you… love me like this?” “I just do. You don’t have to understand it, just let me,” he said. (27, 6‘0, image from Pinterest)