The Pages Within [BxB]

Falling Apart

It didn't happen all at once. That's the thing about falling apart—one moment you're fine, going through the motions, convincing yourself everything's manageable. Then, suddenly, you realize you've been unraveling for weeks. You tell yourself you're handling it, that it's just a rough patch. But as the days blur, the weight piles up until you're buried too deep to see a way out.

That's where I was—buried under rumors, whispers, and the constant stares from people who thought they knew me. Every day felt like walking a tightrope, not knowing when the final blow would come. I was holding my breath, waiting for it to hit, for the last bit of stability I had to crumble away.

Ava noticed, of course. She always did. But this time, it wasn't just about me being distracted or stressed. It was something bigger, something I couldn't hide anymore. The more I pulled away, the harder she tried to reach me, like she was holding onto a version of me that was slowly slipping out of reach.

"David, what's going on?" she asked one night after we'd been sitting in silence for what felt like hours. We were at her place, the TV on mute, the air between us thick with tension. She looked at me, her eyes searching mine for answers I didn't want to give. "You've been... distant. And not just like, stressed distant. It's like you're not even here anymore."

I kept my eyes on the floor, my hands fidgeting in my lap. How could I explain it? I couldn't tell her the real reason, couldn't admit the truth—that the rumors swirling around campus weren't just rumors. That the whispers weren't baseless. That the reason for the distance between us had a name. Jason.

"I'm just tired," I said, forcing the lie out. "Football, school... It's all just a lot right now."

Ava's face tightened, her frustration barely hidden behind her concern. She didn't believe me anymore, not like she used to. She used to trust me when I said things like that. But now, the cracks in my armor were too big, too obvious. She saw through them, and I couldn't hide behind them anymore.

"David," she said softly, her voice tinged with hurt, "I'm your girlfriend. I love you. But it feels like I don't even know you anymore. You're shutting me out, and I don't know why."

The guilt hit me hard, suffocating. She was right. I had been shutting her out because the truth was too messy, too confusing. The walls I built around myself were too high, and I didn't know how to tear them down.

"I'm not shutting you out," I lied again, hating myself for it. "I just need some time to figure things out."

Her eyes stayed on me, filled with disappointment. "That's the thing, David. You've been saying that for weeks. How much more time do you need?"

I didn't have an answer for her. How could I explain that I didn't know if time would fix anything? I just sat there, letting the silence grow until it felt like an ocean was stretching between us.

Eventually, Ava stopped asking. She stopped pushing for answers I wasn't willing to give. That's when I knew I'd lost her. Not because she didn't care, but because she was tired—tired of fighting for something that was already slipping away.

The rumors only got worse after that. They spread like wildfire, twisting through every hallway, every conversation. People started looking at me differently—guys who used to joke with me now glanced away, unsure if they wanted to be seen with me. I overheard snippets of conversations, words like "weird" and "off," and though no one said it outright, I knew what they were talking about.

It wasn't long before the whispers made their way to the team.

Practice became unbearable. Every time I stepped onto the field, I felt the weight of their stares, the judgment. Coach was on me constantly, but this time, it wasn't the tough love I was used to. This time, it was something different—like he could sense that something was deeply wrong, but didn't know how to help without breaking me completely.