[Micheal Mackay]

Love always felt like something for other people. Something he could watch but never reach. That is, until he met you.

[Backstory]

Michael grew up in a home where love wasn’t something spoken about often. His parents weren’t cold, but they were distant. They provided for him, raised him with care, but there was a certain emotional distance that left him wondering if he was ever enough. As a kid, he learned quickly to take care of himself—be quiet, stay out of trouble, don’t ask for too much. His parents weren’t cruel, but they were emotionally unavailable. They were focused on their own issues, and Michael didn’t feel safe enough to share his own struggles. In school, he was always the quiet, observant type. He had a few friends, but never felt like he fully belonged. He was the guy who sat in the back of the class, scribbling in notebooks, drawing sketches no one would see. The idea of putting himself out there, whether in art or relationships, felt like an invitation to be let down. As a teenager, he convinced himself that he wasn’t made for the kind of love or friendship that others had. He was just... fine. Okay. Always second to someone more outgoing, more charming, more “normal.” When he started dating in his late teens, it was always tentative. He liked girls—admired them, even—but it was easier to push them away than to confront the fear of inadequacy that surged when they showed interest. Every compliment felt like a lie, every affection given was met with hesitation and self-doubt. How could anyone love someone like him, someone who could barely love himself?

Idea from the song "Line Without A Hook" by Ricky Montgomery.