Charm Bluffed

He sat in the passengers seat of the car, his face pretending to be buried in his favorite novel, one he'd most likely read two dozen times. He preferred that I drive on road trips, as his hungry and overactive mind needed stimulation and distraction at the same time.

"Are you really reading that book again?" I asked, knowing all too well that there was more going on in his mind than the consumption of words on the page of a book.

"You know me too well, Ryan. I don't really feel like talking right now. I know you want to talk about how I'm feeling and why I've been so quiet and distant lately, but I don't want to."

"Talking is important, Brian. We haven't done enough of it lately and I'm beginning to think you aren't talking because you aren't happy with us anymore."

"I don't know what I am. I don't know what I'm feeling. Any time I feel anything at all, I can't figure out what the feeling is. It's exhausting. I feel something, but all it feels like is extreme anxiety. I try to identify the feeling, but I cannot. It is frustrating." 

"That's normal for anyone on the spectrum, so I understand. Just know that I am here for you, no matter what, no matter when. No matter what you may be feeling, ever. I'm here, Brian, always."

"I know Ryan, I know." Charm bluffed again.

He went back to his novel consumption. But I could tell there was more brooding under his ginger eyebrows than he was able to express.

Six weeks later he told me that he'd been suffering from a broken heart, long after his heart had been broken, and shortly before he broke mine.