Im With You 鉂睧SSENTIAL 鈼庘澇

Elias sat on the edge of a rusted park bench, his collar turned up against the chill. He wasn鈥檛 waiting for a bus or a person鈥攈e was waiting for the feeling of being untethered to finally pull him under. At twenty-four, he felt like a ghost in his own life, moving through a sequence of shifts at a quiet bookstore and long walks through a city that seemed to have forgotten him. "It鈥檚 a bit damp for a sit-down, isn鈥檛 it?"

"The noise is fine. It鈥檚 the pneumonia that鈥檚 the problem," she replied, stepping closer. She tilted her umbrella, shielding him. The sudden cessation of rain hitting his shoulders felt like a physical weight being lifted. "I鈥檓 Clara."

"I like the noise," Elias said, his voice raspy from hours of silence. Im With You

But Elias carried a darkness he couldn't quite name鈥攁 persistent hum of anxiety and the crushing belief that he was fundamentally broken. One night, while they sat on the floor of her tiny apartment surrounded by half-finished paintings, the hum became a roar.

Elias squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth through her glove. "Yeah," he whispered. "But it's okay. I'm with you." Elias sat on the edge of a rusted

She took his hand, her grip steady. "Whatever happens, wherever this goes... "

"Then I鈥檒l learn to breathe underwater," she said softly. "I'm not here because I think you're a project to be fixed, Elias. I鈥檓 here because I like the view from your ship, even when it鈥檚 taking on water." "It鈥檚 a bit damp for a sit-down, isn鈥檛 it

Decades later, Elias stood in the same park where they had met. The bench was new now, made of polished wood instead of rusted iron. He was older, his hair a shock of white, but he still preferred the rain.