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Was begging him, not in the way you might expect, but in the most honest way I could. Could see how lost he was, trapped in a world where nobody seemed to notice the struggle beneath his tough exterior. I didn’t want him to feel weak; I wanted him to feel strong again, the way he used to. But I was begging, desperate for him to see himself for what he truly was.
“Please,” I said softly, “just let go. Let me help you feel like a man again.”
He didn’t speak at first, staring into the distance, avoiding my gaze as though he couldn’t bear to look at me. But I kept begging, and my voice cracked with the weight of it. “You don’t have to hide behind this mask. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not. Just… let me in. Let me show you that you are enough.”
He shook his head, as if rejecting the very idea, but I couldn’t stop begging. “I know you’re in there, the man who deserves to feel proud of himself, the man who has strength to give. Please, let me help you see it. Let me
Im Begging
remind you of what’s inside.”
I begged again, this time with more intensity. “Don’t let your doubts drown out the truth. You are more than what you think. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, but you need to see it for yourself. Please, let me help you.”
And finally, when he looked at me, the walls started to crumble, just a little. I wasn’t asking for perfection—I was begging for him to believe he was worthy of being the man I knew he could be. Just needed him to understand it too. I needed him to feel the weight of it, to know that I wasn’t just saying these things. I meant every word, and I was here to remind him who he truly was.