How to be Vulnerable

I remember, that night was heavy. You were sitting on the couch in your living room and I was across the room, standing in the hallway, watching the light of the streetlamp filter through your window shades and cut the floor of your apartment into light and dark stripes. A sea of jagged light separating you and me. Each passing moment seemed to place another ounce of pressure upon your back, until it seemed as though the darkness was a physical weight settling into the curvature of your spine. Your whole body cradled inward aiming to guard your vital organs, like a wounded animal.
I was powerless to help you, trapped on the opposite end of the room, separated from you by the darkness and the ocean of orange light, I could only witness your body slowly bow under the weight of that night.
Finally, when I felt I could not bear to watch you suffer, I crossed the room, said goodnight, and left you in the darkness, alone.