i’ve been outside since 4pm… as i’m posting this it’s almost 4am, i just wanna go to sleep omfg i miss my bed and i’ve had a plate of beautiful food waiting for me
i just started love island (from ep17 cause i was NAWT watching allat + seen everything on tt) and can i say, i finally understand the love island hype
summary ⟡ you can’t eat, you can’t sleep, maybe the problem is your relationship?
warnings ⟡ established relationship, angst
author’s note ⟡ written with ‘what’s wrong with me’ by olivia rodrigo in mind, i’m obsessed with that album rn. also not proofread so if this sucks, my bad og
The bed shifted beneath Colston’s weight. It was late enough at night, around midnight maybe. You should’ve been asleep. You laid down for the night at ten, but yet here you were wide awake staring at the wall. Colston wrapped his arm around your abdomen, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. Normally you would have leaned back into him or turned to face him, but not this time. Things hadn’t been normal for you in a long time.
You thought the offseason would give you and Colston more time to be together. To be honest, you don’t know why you figured that. The two of you met the summer after your freshman year in college, and even then he was busy. Between all of his charity events, community activities, practice, and guest appearances, you were practically living in a house with his ghost.
Moments like these had plagued your mental health and relationship in the past, but it always seemed to work itself out. This time though, you couldn’t help shake the feeling of impending doom. Like something, lord knows what, was on the horizon. In a strange way though, other than that you were seemingly fine. It’s what you’d been telling yourself since the pit in your stomach opened up about two months ago. The relationship itself was, in theory, fine. The two of you still talked, laughed, made love, and everything else that came to be routine over the years. Still, you felt unsatisfied. Off. Like in your gut you knew that you weren’t the same as before.
Your appetite had almost ceased to exist, you could barely sleep, and you cried every time you watched something mildly sad. One time you spent the entire day in bed watching movies and crying whenever someone's smile would drop. Your friends were genuinely concerned for you. One of your best friends scheduled a doctor’s appointment on your behalf, and it went as expected. You indeed were fine. At least in the normal sense of the word. You didn’t have depression, anxiety, or any other ailment that would explain your recent feelings and behavior. So what was wrong with you?
Colston hadn’t really noticed. Mainly the loss of appetite because he tried to eat the meals he could with you. You endlessly reassured him that you were just in a funk, and that his sweetheart would be back in shape in no time. He didn’t push any further for answers. He was never that type of guy. He figured that you would talk to him when you were ready. That time never came.
The next day, Colston was out the door early. He made your daily coffee, showered, and told you he’d be back before dinner this time. Like the night before, he wasn’t. You had taken permanent residence on the couch. Feet kicked up on the ottoman, a stack of blankets shielding you from the outside world. You didn’t move much, not believing it was necessary, just like you didn’t believe he’d be home by dinner.
The door opened at ten p.m. Colston toed his shoes off and threw his keys into the bowl by the front door. “Still in the same spot I left y’in?” He framed it like a question but it was more of a statement. You shrugged, although he was unable to see it.
“Just didn’t feel like moving today.” It was quick and plain. Like it took too much out of you to say anything more.
Colston sat down on the ottoman in front of you, grabbing the remote and pausing the re-run of Supernatural you had playing. “Have you eaten today?” It really was sincere. He smoothed his hand over your blanket clad calf and looked directly at you.
You shrugged again, “I wasn’t feeling anything today.”
“Well baby, you haven’t been feeling anything in weeks. Talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
A beat of silence settled over the two of you. This was a conversation you never wanted to have. You were never good with properly conveying your feelings without something coming out wrong. You sat up, shrugging the cover off your shoulders, finally looking at Colston instead of the TV. “I can’t tell you what’s wrong because I don’t know, Colston. There’s nothing wrong with me medically.”
“Yea well I’m not talking about medicine either. I’m talking about what’s going on in your head.” Colston stayed grounded, not growing frustrated with your lack of explanation.
You took a deep breath before the words came out of you like a broken floodgate, “I- I don’t even know. I’m tired all the time, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, my head is in knots all the time, but there is nothing wrong. My doctor had told me I should consult with a psychologist at the hospital when I went the other month and she said maybe it’s my lifestyle. And all I could think was that I’ve been living the same lifestyle for four years, why would it be a problem now? But when I went home last month and saw my family and friends I felt the best I had in awhile. And,,, I don’t know, maybe I sound insane right now.”
“You don’t sound insane, but what are you trying to say?” You hadn’t noticed how Colston sat up during your rant, taking his hand off your leg.
The words couldn’t leave your mouth. Nothing but broken sentences and sighs before it came stumbling out, “I think you’re what’s wrong with me. This life is what’s wrong with me. I’m not built to be a WAG and have my life revolve around your job and every move. I- it just didn’t feel like this in college. I didn’t expect things to go like this.”
It was clear this all took Colston by surprise. He could almost feel his heart stop when he heard that first sentence. That he was the problem. He was the reason for your unhappiness. It didn’t even occur to him how this transition was affecting you.
Colston rested his elbows against his knees, “You hate Chicago.” Your eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. “You hate the cold, you hate being watched. You hate what they say about you.”
This wasn’t about Chicago. It was about hating everything that his new life and career stood for. Naively, you hadn’t spoken about what going pro what do to the relationship. You both assumed it would be fine because it had been for three years before.
“I don’t want you miserable like this. You know I never have. If this isn’t what you want, then I get that. Trust me baby, I fucking get it.”
Tears began welling up in your eyes. Even while giving you an out to this relationship he still called you ‘baby’. He still grabbed your hand and squeezed it twice because he saw your breathing pick up.
You bit your lip in an attempt to keep the tears and bay, but it was futile. “I don’t know what I want. And I feel awful,” your voice broke on the last word. It was a bizarre feeling, honestly. You know the root of your issues, yet leaving the man who was a piece of the reason you faced these problems was gut wrenching.
“We don’t have to figure it out right now, but thank you for telling me.” Colston stood up from where he was previously sitting to take his place next to you. He slung his arm around your shoulder, stroking your arm before pressing a long kiss into your hair.
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