San was all in: midnight texts, surprise visits, poems, playlists, long drives. He adored Jill like the sun adores the earth.
When she left, he collapsed. A fog settled over everything. The world felt hollow.
For days, he said to himself: “She was everything. Without her, who am I?”
One evening, silence pierced through his spiral. He saw how his mind had turned love into ownership, affection into addiction. He hadn’t loved Jill — he had needed her.
He realized he wasn’t grieving her, but grieving the shattering of the self he had built around her.
And in that stillness, something in him began to loosen.
