A Safe Place

Authors Note

This story is more than fiction.

It's a pulse. A memory. A ghost I still carry in my chest.

Three years ago, I lost someone I loved — my friend, my heart, my home in human form — to the same darkness this book walks through.

He was brilliant. Gentle. Full of laughter that made everything feel lighter.

And then, he was gone.

This story is for him.

It's a tribute to his soul. To the things he never got to say.

To the life he should've lived.

To the version of him that could have healed if this world had been softer, if the pain hadn't been so loud.

Writing this hurt in ways I can't explain.

But I needed to show you the world through eyes like his — and maybe yours.

Eyes that smile when they're supposed to, but hold storms behind them.

Eyes that see everything but themselves.

I wrote this for the people still here.

The ones fighting battles no one sees.

The ones who've thought about leaving but haven't.

The ones who did leave — and the people who are left trying to breathe through the silence they left behind.

Lena's story is fictional.

But the pain? The love? The desperate wish for a different ending?

That's real.

Please, if you're struggling — stay.

There is no shame in hurting. There is no weakness in needing help.

There is only courage in choosing to keep going.

If no one has told you this lately:

You matter. You are loved. And this world is better because you're still in it.

This is for you.

And this is for him.

I miss you every day libélula de la esperanza.

— with all of me,

J.l