He walked on eggshells around my head

I guess I really didn't know what to think. These past weeks have been so weird. Confusing to say the least, but not unnerving in a way. I was satisfied, without understanding what about, and felt empty at the very same time. The world was split in two and I was standing in the middle trying to grasp either side. Desperately grabbing both sides, eager to reconnect the two as if nothing really happened. I'm not sure what I clung onto, but somehow it was a sane thing to do. Without both sides I wouldn't be whole. I would be half, like some sandwich that'd been chewed on and then rejected. Or that newly build house on the street that no one ever bothered to make a home. I wouldn't exist without both sides. Not really at least.

And he just walked on eggshells around my head forcing me to do so too. He crumbled himself around me in silence. He never spoke a word. Sometimes the occasional mumble would escape his lips and like as if he was ashamed of the sound he'd spin his head back in deep contemplative thought. Forcing his mouth shut with an unnatural tightness.
Even though I wasn't sure what to do at first, I was intrigued by his ways. He swayed as if he were a twig rustled by the wind, but not ready to let go of the tree that connected him to earth. He was too young to be aware what was going on but old enough to know that something was. His eyes revealed it quite easily.

I could lay awake beside him for hours on end fantasising about what he'd be saying if he would talk. -What I'd be saying if he would talk.
Since it was not only his non-verbal meaner that covered our world in silence, because of his -it was mine too. But somehow I was more daring. I wasn't afraid of the occasional sigh or whisper. Instead of talking I would write and when I lost the ability to write I would hint it by making tiny gestures. The spaces between us were called whispers, the closeness silence. Somehow we could only exist in this voiceless void. There was nothing either one of us could do about it.