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He sometimes wonders if everything's okay with his mind, if he sees things that aren't there, or puts meaning to completely meaningless events.
He goes through a significant amount of stress daily, he's sure that it has taken some kind of toll on him. And he notices it when it happens: when he gets angry and makes himself take a walk to calm down, when he becomes a diva for a short period of time and loses his patience quickly, when the first response he has to an issue is to panic, that freaks him out most. Chris has learned how to manage in those types of situations, how to question himself, how to focus on listing possible symptoms so he can have a conversation with his doctor, and be once again assured that it's stress mixing with tiredness and that he needs to take a step back. So he takes a step back.
What had never happened before, however, is hitting the trifecta, not until last night. But he got jealous, another thing that's unlike him but it happened, then it escalated. Chris doesn't do fights. Well, he didn't do fights until last night. It was important to take a step back right there and then.
What's important now is the making up portion of every fight. They have to make up, he's not sure if he can have it any other way.
Chris met Abigail two years ago, she was working as a set designer on a movie he was in. The conversation ran smoothly between them, they flirted, and there was a serious amount of sparks, but no one did anything about it.
They crossed paths again five months ago, in the register line in Barnes and Noble. It immediately felt like fate, at least it did to Chris. And when they started dating it became clear to him that that's what it was. Fate. It's why Chris can't let himself relax, he can't allow himself to let the tiny things go. He's insecure, he's fucking terrified that they aren't on the same page. It's why he got jealous. He's fucking terrified that she's gonna slip away.
He has no issue with her talking to anyone, he doesn't expect anyone he has feelings for to only talk to him, he's not needy. But the guy last night - it was different, there was something there. The way she looked at him, the way the guy looked at her, so much tension. Tension Chris hasn't felt with anyone, and definitely not with her. And he couldn't let that insecurity go, the car ride home wasn't pleasant at all.
The morning after is busy with Chris trying to fix it. After pacing around his apartment for hours, texting and calling, trying to get in touch with her in any way, he did what anyone else in his panicked state of mind would do. He decided to go to her place.
He's walking up the stairs that lead to Abigail's apartment, feeling so nervous and fidgety that he almost doesn't notice how sweaty his palms have become.
He knocks on her door, waiting for an answer that doesn't come. He's sure she's home, he swears he can hear noises from inside.
"Abby, it's me," Chris speaks, "Come on, open up," he adds, knocking again, certain he's hearing movement on the other side, "Abbs, I came to apologize, I acted like a total dick last night."
The answer doesn't come. What comes is one of Abigail's neighbors, an old lady shows up from the end of the hallway. The lady stares at Chris, a little curious about what's going on.
"Good morning," she says to him, walking past him on her way to the stairs.
"Good morning ma'am," he greets her back, offering a smile. He waits till the lady has left to try Abby's again. Another knock, no answer yet, "Abby, please open up. I'm really sorry about last night. I have some insecurities to work through, and it all boils down to the fear of loosing you," Chris pauses, unsure if he should say what's on his mind. He checks to see if there's someone else in the hallway before he speaks, "I haven't felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I know that's a cheesy thing to say, but it's true. I fucking love you," the realization strikes when he admits it, "Okay. I'm gonna go."
He turns away and starts walking away. One of the doors in the hallway clicks, but it could be anyone, so Chris doesn't check to see who it is.
"Chris," her voice stops him. He turns around and sees her standing in front of the door, barefoot, "We need to talk," she says, her eyes dropping to the floor after she speaks.
Like on cue, a man that Chris has never seen before exits her apartment, putting a shirt on as he walks out the door.
Chris can feel his blood rushing, his jaw clenches, and so do his fists. His entire body tenses up, this amount of anger doesn't compare to the tiny fit from the previous night. There's pain in his chest, it comes suddenly and it feels like a constant string of punches, all precisely over his lungs. This is such a shitty situation, one that he never wants to be put in again. So this is what it feels like to have your entire world crushing down. Fuck.
"We don't need to talk," he says, "Have a good life. Both of you," he adds and starts walking away.
He didn't put meaning to this situation, it was pretty meaningful by itself.
Chris takes his phone out of his pocket and dials the only person he knows can help him at this moment.
"Hey."
"Hey Seb. You free today?"
"Yeah, what's up?"
"I need help getting drunk. My place."
"I'll be there as soon as I can."