A story of an art geek drastically pulled into a blackhole called love. 
There is no escape. If he were to take an air breather from it, he'd always somehow get winded back in the same train of endless thoughts.Trapped inside his own walls, which is strange because he never even remembered building those 'walls' in the first place. 
He's sick of it. Sick of having to fall for the wrong guy but feeling so right, or was it the right guy but feeling so wrong? He doesn't know.
He was sick of keeping all these to himself but he can't help it for if he were to speak up, he'd surely end up breaking his and another's heart.
He just feels suffocated when the air around him is so fresh. He's definitely sick of it. Definitely.