Suewas never perfect.
He wasn't ugly in a loud way either—no sharp features, no dramatic flaws. Just… plain. The kind of face people passed every day and forgot five minutes later. His reflection never surprised him, never pleased him. It simply existed, like he did.
If people were honest, they'd probably call him ugly. And some were honest. Too honest.
But what nobody bothered to look at—what never showed on the surface—was his heart. Soft. Loyal. Almost foolishly kind. The kind of heart that gave without calculating the cost, the kind that believed people meant what they said.
That was his biggest mistake.
He had been cheated on.
More than once.
Promises were made to him like they were easy. "You're different." "I won't leave." "I choose you." And every time, he believed them. Every single time. Until texts started coming late. Until replies turned dry. Until his questions were met with silence.
Ghosted.
No closure. No explanation. Just gone—like he never mattered.
Sue tried asking himself what he did wrong. Was he too caring? Too available? Too boring? Or was he just… not enough?
The worst part wasn't even the cheating.
It was how easy it was for people to leave.
At school, at home, everywhere—Sue felt misunderstood. Teachers scolded him for things he didn't intend. Adults assumed he was careless when he was just quiet. People mistook his silence for attitude, his kindness for weakness.
Even his friends laughed at him.
"Bro, you're too soft."
"Why do you even try?"
"No girl stays with guys like you."
They said it jokingly.
He smiled jokingly.
But jokes land differently when they keep hitting the same wound.
Every laugh felt like proof that maybe the world had already decided who he was—a boy easy to step on, easy to forget, easy to blame.
Some nights, Sue lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the world moving without him. He wondered how long someone could keep going when nothing seemed to go right. When every effort ended the same way. When being good never felt good enough.
He wasn't dramatic about it. He didn't cry loudly. He didn't beg for attention.
He just felt tired.
Tired of explaining himself.
Tired of hoping.
Tired of being strong when nobody noticed.
There were moments—small, silent ones—when he questioned whether he even belonged here. Not because he wanted to disappear, but because he couldn't understand why staying hurt so much. Why existing felt like constantly apologizing for taking up space.
And yet…
He stayed.
Even when his hope thinned to a thread, he stayed.
Because somewhere deep inside Sue was a stubborn kind of goodness. A quiet belief that maybe—just maybe—not everyone was the same. That somewhere, someone would see him clearly. Not as a joke. Not as a mistake. But as a human being worthy of care.
He still helped people, even after they mocked him.
He still listened, even when no one listened to him.
He still loved, even when love had bruised him.
That was Sue's quiet strength.
The world misunderstood him, but it never managed to turn him cruel.
And maybe that was the tragedy of it all—that the boy who needed kindness the most kept giving it away, hoping one day it would find its way back to him.
Sue didn't know when things would change. He didn't know if love would ever choose him the way he chose others. But somewhere between the hurt and the healing, he kept walking.
Slowly.
Silently.
Bravely.
Because even when hope was fragile, even when the world felt heavy, Sue was still here.
And sometimes… that was enough.