The Ruin Script

depth is the word that feels closest to what i carry for you. if anyone asks me who my friend is, the first name that comes to mind has always been yours—daryll. not out of habit, but out of certainty. you are not just someone i grew up beside. you are the one i chose to keep. 

always soft. always fragile. in ways the world does not deserve. your kindness overflows so naturally that sometimes it spills into hands that do not know how to hold it properly. you understand even when you should be angry. you excuse even when you are the one being hurt. that generosity makes you rare, but it also makes you vulnerable. i wish you could see how worthy you are without having to prove it through sacrifice.

remember this: you do not have to earn your place in anyone’s life. you do not have to shrink, bend, or overextend yourself just to be kept. sometimes you struggle to speak for yourself. sometimes you look at me when the weight feels too heavy—and yes, i see that. i see the pauses. i see the swallowed words. i see the way you try to understand everyone else before you understand yourself. the fact that you trust me enough to show me those moments is something i hold with gratitude. that trust is sacred to me.

you think i am hard on you. maybe i am. maybe i stay sarcastic, sharp, composed, almost emotionless. maybe i do not say things in the softest way. but beneath that exterior is something steady and fiercely protective. i may not express affection the way others do. this may even sound like a cringe coming from me—too open, too exposed—but for once, i want you to understand: i care for you more than i let on. when you stumble, i am already behind you. when you fall, i am ready to stand in front of whatever tries to hurt you next.

lean on me. run to me. in your ups and downs, in your achievements and your quiet failures. i will celebrate your wins—loudly when you need applause, silently when you need grounding. i will sit with you in your disappointments without making you feel small. you will never be unwanted in my presence. you will never be unloved in the ways that truly matter. even when i look distant, even when i am silent, i am with you in every way i know how to be.

let this be your reminder, especially now: be gentle on yourself. stop pushing so hard just to please people who would not exhaust themselves for you. choose what genuinely makes you happy. you do not need to conform to anyone’s standards just to feel accepted. it is never wrong to choose yourself. your kindness is not a weakness meant to be consumed; it is a strength meant to be protected. and if ever you forget your worth, i will remind you. again and again.

this valentine’s day, i am not offering you grand gestures. i am offering you something steadier: acknowledgement. gratitude. appreciation. loyalty. you are worthy. you are loved. you are seen, even when you think you are invisible. and no matter where life takes us, if someone asks me who my friend is, it will always be you.

with hearts and gratitude,
aki 

author’s note:
— bled by @achilleusdeirdre
— 14th of february, year 2026
— open to criticism; all echoes welcome.
— lowercase intended for signature writing.