The quiet used to be ok, sometimes even nice.

Now you worry that every quiet means he's pulling away from you, that he's sick of this, that he knows and just wants you to stop. And the rational part of you knows that's not it, this is just who Lance is, who he's always been, that sometimes he's just quiet. But the part of you that loves him so hard is scared that you'll lose him and you'd do anything

anything to keep that from happening.

And it's so scary, like maybe you two don't have anything to talk about anymore, like you've been together for too many years, like there's nothing left to say, you've said it all already, and even the stupid stories about your day and all the shit you're both dealing with only last for so long

and he'll get quiet again, and you'll start to babble and say anything

and inevitably anything begins with, "So, Britney was..."

You think this all starts when you have to be apart for so much of the year, after the old days of cramped buses and 24-7 with each other, and you realize that out of sight, out of mind is bullshit, because the longer Lance is away, the more you picture his return

your hands on his body.

You start to plan out what thing you'll say when you see each other again that would let him know without Letting Him Know how you feel, just in case, and have these perfect conversations in your head with him, where it turns out you don't need the just in case clause. They usually end with him breathing your name into your mouth.

It all starts for real when you get back together, and you're happy that he's back in Florida, or happy that you're back from whatever bullshit event you had to be seen with Britney at. You talk excitedly for an hour maybe, and you feel like the time apart was worth it, because you both have all these stories to tell each other

and his eyes are so fucking incredible and his low rumbly voice, and you make thousands of girls smile everyday, but it's nothing

nothing compared to when he smiles at you for real. Then you think about your smooth line, and how maybe it's not really that smooth, and think about saying it anyway, and then think about not saying it, and there it is, he's quiet

and suddenly it's not the same.

You need to fill the quiet with jokes, and you're not even that funny, not like Chris is, just so he'll laugh and flash you that smile that makes you think everything is so right, that he must love you

he must, he has to feel the same pinch in his stomach.

You can remember when things were easy and light, and being together was enough, and you knew he cared so much, so it didn't matter if he was quiet. Even then though, you craved his voice and smile all the time.

Told yourself you just loved the interesting things he had to say, because he's so smart and knows all sorts of things you don't, and you liked to hear about before the band, about Mississippi, and all the tiny things that make him him. Told yourself you just loved that he appreciated your stupid jokes, because you could remember a time when he was shy and nervous and you got him to laugh that first big laugh, and you'd been close like this ever since, and fuck it felt good to make someone laugh.

Now you don't just crave them, you need them, and every silence feels so scary, and you think about filling it with I love you

but never do because you're terrified the quiet will get worse, heavier, not just something you imagine, and he'll move away from you, and you'll have to stop putting your arm around him in photos because maybe he'll think you mean something by it

and really maybe you do

and everything will have to change, and you'll never get his real smile again.

You hold yourself back, try to let him have his space, because you know that sometimes he likes to just sit, that it's not you, but you can't help it, and if you only had your arms around him, he could, you could both be quiet and it'd be nice and good

and it wouldn't feel like he was being distant, because he'd be right there, right there.