There were moments in life when we carried burdens too heavy to bear alone. But sometimes, all it took was the right person, at the right time, to make us finally let go.
Akutu and Nathan's friendship had grown deeper over the weeks. They talked about everything—books, ideas, their ambitions.
But some things remained unsaid.
Until one evening, when the weight of silence became too much.
It was a cold night. They sat on a bench near the science block, watching the campus lights flicker in the distance.
Nathan had been quiet all evening, his usual energy replaced with something distant, something heavy.
"Are you okay?" Akutu finally asked.
Nathan exhaled, his fingers gripping the edge of the bench. "Do you ever feel like… no matter what you do, it's never enough?"
Akutu looked at him carefully. "Yeah," she admitted. "I've felt that way a lot."
Nathan nodded slowly. Then, after a long pause, he said, "I don't think I've ever told anyone this, but… I almost dropped out last year."
Akutu's heart skipped a beat. "What?"
He let out a bitter chuckle. "Yeah. No one knew. I was struggling so much—academically, mentally. I felt like I didn't belong here. Like I was just… failing."
Akutu had never seen Nathan like this. He was always the composed one, the one who had it all together.
But now, she saw a different side of him—the side that carried unseen battles.
She didn't know what to say at first.
So she did what she wished someone had done for her when she doubted herself—she listened.
Nathan talked about the pressure from his family, the sleepless nights, the fear of disappointing people.
And as he spoke, Akutu realized something: we all had struggles, even the people who seemed the strongest.
"You didn't drop out," she finally said.
Nathan gave a small smile. "No. Somehow, I found my way through."
Akutu hesitated, then placed a hand over his. "I'm glad you did."
Nathan looked at her, and for the first time, there was no pretense, no mask. Just honesty.
"Me too," he whispered.
And in that moment, Akutu understood—sometimes, the strongest friendships were built in the quiet confessions of our weakest moments.
The pulleys of life had shifted once again.