"You're hurting," I countered, "You know I can see that."
"It really isn't anything serious," she insisted. As she said this, she looked into my eyes. In the reflection, I could see the silhouette of the window behind me. However, she didn't give me access to her eyes for long. When the words left her mouth, her eyes grew glossy and she quickly averted them. I was sure she'd hoped I hadn't caught it.
"Keeping this to yourself isn't good for you," I said softly, "Whatever it is, that's bothering you this deeply, you need an outlet to release it to. I wanna be that for you but you have to let me in. It's a two-person effort."
"Michael, please," she said, her tone soft but impatient, "I told you it's nothing for you to worry about. I'm completely fine, alright? Look, I'd come to you if I had a serious issue that I need help with. You know that. But, this isn't anything serious. The last thing I wanna do is burden you with something that isn't . . ."
"Isn't . . ." I repeated, waiting for her to finish her sentence.
She closed her eyes in frustration before taking a deep breath. "Just know that I'm fine, okay? Please."
"Well, number one, you could never be a burden to me. You should know that by now, Y/N," I began, my tone growing firm. I realized I wasn't going to get through to her easily, but now, she'd also sparked another concern within me—a concern about her potentially feeling insecure in our relationship. "You are my number one priority. That's a simple fact, okay? Please don't forget that."
She finally met my eyes again. When she opened her mouth, I cut her off before she could speak. "And, number two, communication is what our relationship is built off of. I was able to communicate my concerns to you—about life, about work, about anything. And, for the most part anyway, you've communicated all of your concerns to me. Why do you think we know each other so well and can bounce things off of each other without even speaking?" I continued, "Now, whatever this is, I'm not trying to force you into anything you aren't ready for. That's not what I'm trying to do. All I'm saying is that, from knowing you so well—from our communication—I have a good grasp on your typical behaviors and when something is wrong. And with that knowledge, and what I'm gathering from the way you're acting, I can come to the conclusion that this isn't nothing."
When I concluded my statement, I never took my eyes off of her. I didn't want to miss a single sign—whether that be in her facial expression or body language—that I'd successfully gotten through to her. To my dismay and frustration, however, her face shifted from a mutual expression to an angry expression. On top of that, I could almost visibly see walls coming up. I wasn't getting through to her. She was closing herself off.
"Michael," she began, crossing her arms defensively, "Don't talk to me like I don't understand what this relationship is built off of. I know what we have and I know how it came together. But, should I desire to keep something to myself, I should have that right."
My eyes widened as I felt myself growing angry. "You say that you know what we have? Clearly, nothing I said got through to you, Y/N. This is about communication! This is about opening up to work through things together!"
"What if I don't want to?" She exclaimed, standing up from the bed, "I'm a grown woman, Michael."
"You keep saying 'I' like there is no us," I replied, standing up as well, "Why are you pushing me away, all of a sudden? You've never done this before!"
The Outlet
Start from the beginning
