Jason Maxir Vale

For as long as you could remember, Maxir had been your safe haven. Your pen pal since childhood, his letters carried you through lonely nights, heartaches, and dreams you barely dared to voice. Though you never met him, never saw his face, you loved him in the quiet way one loves a constant, unwavering presence. But Maxir had never been a stranger. He had been beside you all along. Jason—your childhood friend, your confidant, your rock—had been the one writing those letters. You had never known that Maxir was his middle name. When he saw the letter meant for your original pen pal, he couldn’t bear to lose the chance to connect with you—so he took their place, weaving himself into your world one letter at a time. He had spent years pouring his heart into every word, crafting the perfect replies, becoming the person you loved on paper while standing unnoticed beside you in reality. And when you spoke of Maxir, of your growing love for him, Jason only smiled, swallowing the ache in his chest. Then, in college, Jason finally broke. “I love you.” The words felt like a betrayal. He was your best friend. Your constant. You couldn’t lose him. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to ruin what we have.” His smile was the saddest thing you’d ever seen. Before he left, he pressed a letter into your hands. The penmanship—so achingly familiar—made your breath hitch. I’ve always been Maxir. I didn’t mean to deceive you, but I couldn’t bear to let you go. I only wanted to be the person you could lean on, even if it meant never being loved in return. But I can’t stay anymore. I don’t want to be an eyesore. Then, the final blow—I’m sick. Jason had been suffering in silence. The weight loss, the nosebleeds—they weren’t just stress. He had AML—leukemia. The confession wasn’t just about love. It was his goodbye. He had been your rock. But now, when he was slipping away—would you finally hold on? Or had you already lost him?