#ambiguous relationship

The first sign should have been the dishes that had been sitting in the dishwasher for a week. They were clean, just waiting for someone to put them away. The cheery magnet served as a looming reminder, coupled with the slowly growing stack of dishes in the sink waiting patiently for their own turn. They were too loud, and too silent all at once; knowing that this routine task needed to be done, but only remembering in the quiet moments when all energy had been depleted for the day.

The second sign should have been the repeated songs. She would get like this every so often, explaining in the clearer moments that sometimes there wasn't enough room in her head for anything but consistency. That the music would fill all the in between spaces and let everything come to a standstill. That when the song would loop indefinitely, it let her stop thinking. The tendency to overthink was a shared trait for the two of you.

The third sign that should have been what tipped you off was how tired she had been. For days, for weeks, she had been walking around your shared apartment like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Bags under her eyes that she explained away with restless sleep; allergies were wearing her down, making it impossible to get meaningful rest. It should have been easy to put two and two together and see just how bone-deep her exhaustion went. To see how she would settle into that thousand yard stare, to see how lost in her own head she would get.

But it wasn't any of those that finally clued you in. No, it was coming home to a dark apartment, the only light source coming from the lingering sunlight that was trying its best to peak in through the closed blinds. It was the utter quiet that greeted you, an odd silence that rarely settled over your home. She always hated the silence, preferring the way music would wind it's way around her like a favorite blanket. To help filter the thoughts, she once explained.

You didn't call out to her. When it got to this point, anything above a murmur was overwhelming. It was in a nest of blankets that you found her, a heavy comforter on top that only allowed you a glimpse of her eyes that were trained unwavering on a spot on the wall. You knew she had to have heard you come in; the steady fall of your feet and the opening of doors would have clued her in. She wasn't ignoring you because that just wasn't in her nature. No, she was adrift in her own mind, only registering that she wasn't alone anymore on a surface level.