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She was doing it again. That same little half-smile when she was trying to get me to stop talking about feelings. That little head tilt, her eyes widening as if she was going to cry, but wanted to stop herself. I ran the brush through my hair, tying the brown mess back away from my face as I got ready alone in our bedroom. Again. She used to come up behind me when I would brush my hair and grab my waist, but lately she'd stopped getting ready with me. She'd get up an hour earlier than me, make herself breakfast, then get dressed. She'd barely look at me when she kissed me before she left for work as she grabbed her purse and let the door slam.

It wasn't always like this. We'd started out fine; coming out to our parents was a little bit of a doozy, but we made it through. We leaned on each other in the toughest times in our two years, taught each other how to be more open and unafraid of where our emotions were leading us. We'd talk for hours about how we loved each other and what our feelings meant, but then she started to change. She didn't kiss me the same anymore and she didn't snuggle into my side at night. She'd turn away from me in bed, sighing heavily before soft sniffles could be heard. I would reach for her, but she would jerk under my touch. So I stopped. When she would come home from work and I knew something was wrong, I stopped begging her to tell me what was wrong so we could fix it together. I stopped having screaming matches with her in our kitchen because I was breaking on the inside and I knew she was too. 

I thought it was me at first. I thought I'd done something to upset her, but it wasn't. It was everything else in life. But where I had been her rock to lean on and her shoulder to cry on, I wasn't anything anymore. It just... changed. Before I really realized what was happening, I lost my best friend. She shut herself off from me and now, I lay in bed and look at the back of a stranger that I used to know everything about. I thought maybe she just needed some time, but after six or seven months, it only got worse. Where there was only a door that had closed, now there was a towering brick wall. I tried everything... I tried to bring her back, creating safe spaces and little days that were just us. She would look at me in public, smile and wave -- play the part that everything was okay -- but once we were home, it was as if we'd never had anything before.

Those long talks we'd had in bed became hours I laid awake wondering what was botheirng her. How could I make her feel safe and loved? I'd look over and see her tear-stained cheeks as she slept fitfully. Her nightmares were back, but I didn't know if it was the same one from years ago or if it was new. I tried to hold her and make her feel secure, but she fought in my arms, once accidentally bloodying my nose. That night was when she laid the last brick in her wall...

"It's me, it's me, it's me, Gray! I've got you!"

"GET OFF ME! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

My yelp of pain was what brought her back awake. Her eyes were round, buldging saucers as my nose dripped blood onto our blue sheets. I watched the horror in her face grow as it sunk in, but I reached for her to let her know I was okay. She flinched.

"Gray, it's okay," I mumbled. "It doesn't hurt, really it doesn't."

"No," she shook her head, tears falling rapidly. "I-I hurt you and-and I just... Morgan, I'm sorry," she sobbed. She wanted to reach for me, but she held her hands in her lap, knuckles white.

"It's okay," I reached for my iPhone and flicked on the flashlight to see how much blood was on my fingers. Not too much. "See, it's not bad at all."

I stood up and walked to the bathroom to clean myself up, washing away the sticky red mess from my hands. I heard Gray on her phone, trying to forget what just happened. I glanced out of the bathroom, wiping my face dry with a towel. She was curled up in the middle of the bed, the soft light of her phone lighting up her face, her nose running as she tried to calm herself down, her hands shaking as she wiped her nose. 

"What was the dream about?" I asked as I came back to the bed. "Was it new?"

She didn't answer, just shut off her phone and plugged it back up. She laid back on the pillows, but she didn't close her eyes.

"Gray?" I tried again. "Babe, look at me." I reached for her hand, but she flinched away from me. "Gray, come on. What's wrong? Why won't you tell me anything anymore?"

She looked at me and shook her head. "I'm not doing this again."

"Not doing what again? We're not even talking anymore, Gray! There's nothing to not do again."

"I'm tired of arguing about this," she rolled her eyes, sighing breathily.

"I'm tired of not talking, baby... I'm tired of constantly having to pretend with you! I'm tired of not being able to hold your hand or be able to be there for you!" My voice was cracking as I tried to keep calm, but I was falling to pieces.

She couldn't look at me. She just sat there biting her lip, scratching at a blemish on her face. She'd been lying to me for months that she was fine. Nothing was wrong. If she did ever admit something was wrong, she'd just walk away and close the door. I was losing her and I couldn't stop it.

"I'm going to bed," I said tiredly. I was defeated. "I'm done."

She didn't tell me she didn't want to go to bed angry or that she loved me... that was new.

"Goodnight, Gray."

Silence.

Then... quietly,

"I'm sorry, Morgan."

I paused from snuggling into my blankets. I blinked away tears stinging in my eyes. "That's what you always say," I whispered before I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Gray wasn't in bed. Downstairs was silent too. I made myself get out of bed and throw on a wrap to ward off the chilliness before I walked into our kitchen. Gray was standing at the large window looking out to our front yard. She had her arms crossed and her brow was furrowed as she stared at the pretty pink flowers we'd planted together the previous year. The year before everything changed. I eyed her as I poured a bowl of cereal and ate slowly as I turned to watch her. She tucked a stray of red-blonde hair behind her ear, sniffing.

"Hey," I said around my spoon. She turned to look at me, but her eyes were vacant. "Good morning," I offered a small smile. She just turned away from me and sat on the couch, curling up as she turned on a Disney movie.

I knew nothing would be the same again. She'd shut down and shut herself off from me and everyone else around her. I didn't know her anymore; where once there was simple honesty and truth, now there was nothing but lies and pretending. I loved her, but I lost her...

Close...

Closing..

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