The Barbarian and the Brain: A Journey to Satisfaction

"We need to talk"

Those 3 words. That's how I knew it was over.

I remember that night like it was yesterday, and the pit in my stomach is still just as empty.

The sun had started to set, a deep shade of pink bleeding into the sky over Mount Hood, casting a warm glow into our living room. It was times like these that I remembered why I fell in love with him in the first place. His wild mane of dark hair, the soul patch under his bottom lip, those eyes that could look into me just as deep as I looked into him.

We hadn't talked much lately, but we had been spending a lot more time together. We'd fallen back into old habits; making dinner together, going for long walks around our neighborhood, and talking about everything under the sun - from what we wanted for dinner or where we wanted to travel next month to whether or not we wanted kids (he wanted them immediately and I wasn't quite sure yet). And then he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, and it felt like everything was perfect again.

But something had changed. There were moments when James would get so wrapped up in his phone that he didn't even notice when I walked by him at the kitchen counter, or when he would seclude himself on the couch while I cleaned up dinner dishes alone.

And then there were other nights when he would wrap his arms around my waist as we sat on the couch watching Netflix, his fingers tracing small circles on my hip bone underneath my t-shirt. I would lean my head against his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat while we watched whatever show we were on that night, and it felt like nothing had ever changed between us.

"What do you mean?" I had asked him that night after dinner, standing behind him at the kitchen sink while he washed the dishes. He'd shrugged noncommittally without turning toward me and reached for another plate.

"I think someone else might be pulling your strings," he continued, "I think you might be seeing someone else." He paused, waiting for me to respond but I didn't say anything. "You've been acting differently lately," he said finally, "and this trip isn't just a weekend away anymore." He pulled out the plug and started drying off the plate with a towel. "Are you running away from something?"

I hadn't answered him at first because he didn't give me a chance to answer him at all; instead of waiting for an answer he turned towards me then with a very serious look in his eye and said "I know you probably don't want to talk about it right now but if you're trying to hide something from me then maybe-"

"There's nothing else!" I said quickly over him; I couldn't let this conversation go any longer than it already had so I interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "There's no one else! Why are you saying this? Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds?"

James had dropped his eyes from mine then but nodded slowly as he placed the plate away in the cupboard above him. "I just think that maybe there's something going on," he said slowly as if choosing his words carefully, "and if there is maybe you want to tell me what it is."

"There's nothing! Why do you keep acting like this? Who told you there was someone else?!" My voice got louder with every word until I was practically yelling at him across the kitchen island between us; why was James acting like this after being so normal with me all week? Had something happened while we were gone? "Did someone tell you something? What did they say?!"

"Wouldn't you just rather talk about this when we get back?" James' voice stayed even despite my rising anger; he dried off another dish calmly without looking up at me once before placing it carefully away inside of the cabinet above him.

"So now you're asking me not to talk about it?!" If there wasn't anyone else why did James have such strong suspicions that there was? What had made him jump to conclusions like this? And why did he seem so insistent that I needed to tell him what was wrong?

He remained silent for a moment longer before finally closing up the cupboard doors and turning around to face me again. The expression on his face was hard but kind - resigned almost - which only pissed me off more than anything else did that night. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively as if bracing himself for what came next - whatever that might be - and waited silently for me to speak again after taking several deep breaths to calm myself down enough not to lose my cool completely right in front of him. "Look," James finally said gently when my anger seemed to die down slightly, "we can talk about this later but let's save it until we get home okay?" As if it wasn't already too late; I nodded stiffly and tried not to stare at those soft brown eyes staring back at me from across the kitchen island from where I stood leaning against the wall behind me with my arms crossed over my chest defensively too just like James'. We stared at each other for several seconds longer before finally walking out of our apartment building without saying another word between us; every second of silence felt like an eternity between us that night as we drove home in silence too thinking about everything that had been left unsaid between us both wondering what would happen next time we saw each other again because this conversation wasn't over by a long shot regardless of what James thought otherwise...