His story.

Crawling out of that little hole he had dug for himself was tough. He sought comfort and in that hole, he found it.

It was him against the world. The questions he had, many went unanswered. The ones he has answers to, they were unsatisfactory, incomplete and at times, rubbish.

Self-doubt crept up from behind him, took him by surprise and swept him off his feet. He was blinded.

"It was an ambush", he said.

He eventually came out of that hole of his. And darkness, albeit slowly, started giving way to light. He dusted himself and looked around, his eyes soaking in every colour, breathing in deep, basking in the sun.

"I was lucky. That, I certainly was. I had an abundance of love from my friends and my family." The tone of his voice betrayed his pride.

I watched him in silence, careful not to break his chain of thoughts.

"I stood still as their love rained over me. I felt the seedlings of doubt cringe away as a crazy little thing called Hope started to win me over."

"Happy ever after? That only exists in fairytales." It was almost as though he read my thoughts at that very moment. The sound of his voice broke the deafening silence.

"He is a man of few words but when he does speak, he sends a message", I muttered under my breath.

"The seedlings of doubt, they may have cringed away but disappear, they did not."

He shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable position to slouch against the tree, eventually finding a spot he was happy with.

We sat in silence, as the sound of the leaves bristling in the wind served as the only music to our ears.

He is one step away from crawling back into his comfort hole. If he tripped, he will tumble deeper into the dark abyss. Deeper than before. One look into his big, brown eyes and I could tell.

His eyes, they told a different story to the one he is trying to narrate to the world. His eyes, that lopsided smile and the tiny dimple on his left cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned against the tree trunk. I felt peace.