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The blinds were always closed now. A thin line of light, that was all. The room was still. Too still. I watched him on the bed. His eyes looked at something. Something on the ceiling. Something in his head. His hands picked at the blanket. A small, restless movement. Always moving.

The words went around and around. I heard them. whispers. Questions. no answers. Doors that were locked. Places he could not go. The outside was a big place. A scary place. The walls of this room were the only safe place. But even here, the thoughts chased him. The thoughts were quick and sharp. They did not stop.

Night came. The room was dark. I could hear him. breathing. Uneven breaths. sighs that held all the worry. He should be sleeping. Rest was needed. But thoughts. still running. A hamster wheel. in the dark. Around and around. No escape. I lay beside him. I feel the tension. The wanting to sleep. The not being able. All I could do was be here. In the quiet, dark room with the endless thoughts. My heart ached. a dull ache. For him. For this. For the quiet he could not find. But even in the dark, even with the closed blinds, I knew the sun was still out there. And one day, he would open the door and walk into it.