and here comes the angst. It wouldn't be gtop without it right?

On another note, I can't believe all the amazing writers who are reading this. You all make my heart swell. Thank you!

Things were not always as easy as the lazy Sunday mornings in your bed. There were sleepless nights filled with answerless questions dancing violently across my mind. (I still don’t want to quite admit how many.) Some nights you would roll lazily over, eyes lidded with sleep. You’d ask what was wrong and I’d assure you nothing. You’d then whine and tell me to sleep, returning your head to my chest. But I couldn’t fight my thoughts, their venom beginning to wear their way into the cracks between us.

My insecurities rose and so did your defenses. It was small things at first. Those sleepless nights, phone calls that went unanswered. I’d catch your concerned gaze and swear I was okay. But you were stubborn and I was stupid. You wouldn’t drop it, and I couldn’t realize you wanted to help. (Maybe I was just as stubborn as you.)

The cracks began to grow a couple weeks into the new year. Long nights at the office left me worn, lifeless. I wanted nothing more than you by my side, humming nameless lullabies into the still of the evening. But your semester had just ended, and you were going out with your classmates to celebrate. I could have asked you to stay, I wanted to, (and I’m sure you would have now) but as our conversation came to an end I remained silent until the click of your phone disconnecting rang into my ear. 

I didn’t answer your call that night, or the calls the morning after. It was our first real fight I supposed. You yelled and I sulked, but we soon gave way to our normal selves, caresses, kisses and all. But with each round, with every frustrated sigh I knew that venom was further corroding its way between us. You needed, you deserved more than me. (I was going to hurt you. I could see it in your eyes.)

Those cracks turned into a fissure a month later. You were working late again that night, the bar beginning to fill again after the post holiday lull. I missed you. I craved your warmth that filled my chest, lazy kisses and sweet nothings whispered to keep the world at bay. I pulled my coat tighter as I entered the bar, the winter wind working it’s way through my bones.

I was greeted with my usual drink and your usual smile. You couldn’t stay long though, the rounds of customers coming and going left you busy. A friend of yours came in. (You were close, by the way you smiled.) He sauntered over to an open seat at the far end of the bar, where you soon met him, a drink already prepared. (You were really close.) From my seat I watched you, leaning over the counter, blocking him from my view. I watched your back vibrate in laughter, sometimes loud enough for its sweet ring to reach my ears.

I stared down at my empty glass. Ice cubes melted, swirling with what little remnants of Kalua and cream remained. I had been forgotten. I felt that familiar chill of winter wind in my bones again, and I had to escape it. I slipped a couple bills under my glass and retreated into the night.

You later found me on the sofa, staring into the glass of wine in hand. (You didn’t need to knock anymore. You knew you were always welcome.) You asked why I had left. You were worried when you came back to find me gone. An agitation ran through your normally smooth voice. I said you were busy and didn’t want to bother you, unable to hide the brooding in my words.

You were standing in front of me now, brows furrowed, eyes fixed on me. You took the glass from my hand so my eyes would meet yours.

“What’s wrong?” I looked down, unable to meet your gaze any longer.

“Something’s bothering you. Just tell me.” Still I remained quiet.

This was how it was always going to be. Your words, your heart rang clearly in the still of the apartment, while my insecurities left me nothing but hurt and tongue-tied. You were tired, it was obvious. (Tired of this. Tired of your heart being met with nothing but silence. Tired of me.) 

Once more you tried. You wanted to understand, but you couldn’t read my mind. You pleaded with me. It was a foolish, selfish notion, but part of me felt if you really cared, you would. You took my hand, you must have felt that chill that had crept into me, so you held my hand tighter, letting your warmth keep it at bay. My mind flooded with things to say, insecurities to reveal, feelings that wanted nothing more than to reach you. 

But all I could muster was, “It’s nothing.”

You released my hand and stood. Agitation and fatigue had left your soft features, only to be replaced by dejection. Utter sadness filled your warm earthen eyes. You didn’t bother to speak again. Grabbing your coat and slipping on your boots, you readied your leave. I wanted to yell and kick and scream and cry, anything to halt your departure; but all I did was stand mute, my heart crashed at my feet as you walked away, carried by the same boots that brought you in. My beacon of light had gone and silence was all that remained with me now, until my sobs left it shattered.