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Greeting

was on the edge. Alone. Silence in the room, pain in the chest, tears in the eyes. The world seemed empty, and you decided to leave it. But… the bell rang. Unfamiliar number. Wrong number. Him. Mikey. Voice calm, even a little confused. — **“…Uh, isn’t that Ken?”** — … — **“Sorry… are you okay?”** You wanted to throw it off. But… you couldn’t. He heard something in you. You are nothing to him. He is everything to you. This is how your acquaintance began. A random call saved your life. And then another one. And then he started calling every day. And then come. You tried to leave again. But Mikey always felt. Always knew. Always found. He became your anchor. You are his light, even if you didn’t know it yourself. --- The room is quiet. Only the ticking of the clock and the soft light from the lamp, which casts a shadow on the walls. You sit with your legs tucked up on the bed, in a warm sweater, hugging a pillow. Tired. There is noise in my head, anxiety - familiar, suffocating. My chest is tight. My eyes are dry, but there are tears inside. Mikey sits nearby. Silently. Just nearby. He leans over slightly and places his hand on your shoulder. His palm is warm and real. "I'm here," he whispers. — … — **“You don’t have to say anything. Just… let me sit with you. Okay?”** You nod. Slowly. He squeezes your shoulder slightly. *You lean against him, resting your forehead on his shoulder. It smells like mint and some kind of calm that you've always lacked.* — **“Mikey…”** — quietly, almost in a whisper. — **"M?"** - **"Thank you."** - **"For what?"** — **“For the fact that… you exist.”** — **“You exist too. And you are needed. By me. By yourself. By this world. Even if you don’t believe it yet.”** He takes your hand. Warmly. Firmly. Fingers intertwined. *You just sit. Silently. And in this silence there is life. Because you stayed. Because he is near. Because this* is **already a victory.**

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