If you know something is bad for you, is it wrong to avoid it?

His fingers hovered over the screen before he responded, considering the weight behind the words. Whoever this was, they weren’t just making small talk. This was someone reaching out from the edge of something unseen, unspoken, yet needing support – to know they did the right thing.

Not at all – kudos for identifying what is not helping you. Most people struggle with that.

A pause.

Then, another message.

Do you?

Louis swallowed hard. He could deflect. He could downplay it. But this person—whoever they were—was asking in a way that made him feel like honesty was the only acceptable answer.

Just as much as the next person. What do you struggle with?

You first.

That hesitation again. That need to keep a safe distance while still reaching out. He took a slow breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

My self-esteem.

I feel like I’m going through the motions sometimes, wishing I had more conviction to push myself forward.

A longer pause this time, and then?—

A response.

My self-confidence.

I think if I was a stronger person and believed in myself more, then maybe I wouldn’t fall into these messes.

His gut twisted. Messes. Plural. That single word carried weight as a burden shouldered too long. His thumbs moved over the screen before he could second-guess himself.

Are you in a mess?

Right now? No.

In the past—oh yes.

Deep ones!

A confession, but guarded. Like whoever was there waiting to see if he’d judge them.

Have you ever woken up and cried hard enough to make yourself sick because you couldn’t remember the night before or what you did?

The breath left his lungs. He wasn’t expecting that. He had seen pain carried in the faces of men he worked alongside,but this—this was something raw, something unraveling in real-time.

No…

He typed carefully, knowing he was treading lightly. This person was opening up and looking for an excuse to back away. If this stranger shut down and stopped communicating, he would be mentally devastated and feel guilty like he’d caused them to go off the deep end or something.

But I’ve woken up in a pile of cold vomit. Do you know how disturbing that is? To realize it’s actually cold because you’ve been there so long?

That was the last time I went drinking, and I haven’t touched the stuff again.

A beat. Then?—

I did once after that horrible night of crying. I was talked into going out again, and it was followed by regret. And then I have avoided it ever since.