**The Weight of Words**

Prompt: Joe burrow’s girlfriend has been distant because she’s insecure about her ADHD but Joe comforts her

The autumn sun filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow over the Cincinnati skyline as Joe Burrow sat on the balcony of their apartment, his mind racing with thoughts of the upcoming game. Shadows of doubt loomed large, not about the football field but rather about the woman he loved deeply, Olivia. Over the last few weeks, he had sensed a growing distance between them, and it weighed on him more than any pressure from the NFL. Olivia had always been vibrant and full of life, her laughter echoing like music in their shared space. But recently, she had been quieter, her eyes often downcast, her smile no longer reaching those incredible hazel eyes. Each time Joe reached out, she pulled back a little more, as if a protective barrier had risen around her heart. “Hey, Liv,” Joe called softly as he stepped inside. She sat curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her like a shield, her laptop open but forgotten beside her, words cascading in the void of her mind. The shadows in the room seemed to mirror the shadows in her heart—the weight of insecurity pressing down on her relentlessly. “Hey,” she replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. He could see the anxiety etched on her face, lines deeper than usual carving into her forehead. “Everything okay?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. She shrugged, lost in thought, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah, just tired.” Joe couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just fatigue. He knew Olivia better than that—her moods, her expressions, the way she communicated without words. “You haven’t been yourself lately, Liv. Are you—” “I’m fine, Joe,” she interrupted, her voice sharper than intended. Regret flashed across her face as she quickly looked away, her anxiousness tied to the ADHD that had always been part of her life’s tapestry. But lately, it had frayed, unravelling her confidence. Joe took a breath, grounding himself. “Look, I know it’s not easy for you,” he said gently. “But if you’re struggling, I’m here. You can talk to me.” She hesitated, the wall she had built around herself suddenly feeling so insurmountable. “I just feel like a mess,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I can’t focus, and then I get overwhelmed. It’s like… my brain is this crowded train station with no conductor.” Joe moved closer, sitting beside her, careful not to invade her space. He had seen her navigate through her emotions and distractions with unparalleled strength, but he also understood her fears. “It’s okay to feel like that sometimes. You’re not a mess, Liv. It’s just ADHD. It doesn’t define you.” “But everyone else seems to handle things better,” she confessed, tears glistening in her eyes. “I can’t help but feel like I’m dragging you down with me. I don’t want to be a burden.” “Olivia,” he said firmly, yet softly, taking her hand into his. “You could never be a burden to me. You’re the light in my life, not the weight. We all have our battles. Mine just happen to be on a football field while yours unravel in your mind.” She looked at him, searching his gaze for assurance. “It just feels like I’m failing. Others are so accomplished, and I can’t even get through a textbook page without feeling like I’m on another planet.” Joe squeezed her hand gently. “You know, I’ve faced my share of challenges, too. The pressure, the scrutiny… It’s all part of the game. But every time I get knocked down, I have to remember why I started. The love for the game, the teammates, the fans who believe in us. It’s the same for you. You’ve fought through this all before.” He paused, allowing the silence to wrap around them, comforting like the blanket she was cocooned in. “You’re talented, clever, and driven in ways that inspire me every day. This is just a chapter, not the whole story.” Olivia’s heart began to ease, the tension in her shoulders loosening as the warmth of his words enveloped her. “It’s just hard to see it that way. I feel so fragile sometimes.” Joe’s heart ached for her. “Being fragile doesn’t make you weak, Liv. It makes you human. And it makes your strength that much more powerful. You can lean on me, always.” Taking a deep breath, Olivia felt the knot in her stomach start to untie. Vulnerability opened the door to comfort, one she had long kept shut. “I appreciate you, Joe,” she murmured, her voice steadier now. “I really do. I just wish I could get a handle on all of this.” “You will,” Joe said with unwavering confidence. “What if we create a plan together? We can break it down into manageable pieces. Some routines, maybe some mindfulness exercises? You’re not alone in this.” A soft smile grazed her lips, illuminating her face like first light at dawn. “You really think that could help?” “Absolutely.” He grinned, relief washing over him as he saw a flicker of hope in her expression. “And no matter how many times we need to adjust the plan or tackle the frustrations, I’ll be right here with you.” For the first time in a while, Olivia felt a weight lift. It was a shared burden now, accompanied by a love that was steadfast and true. “Thank you, Joe. I’m so lucky to have you.” “No, I’m the lucky one,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. As they sat together on the couch, the distance that had once felt so vast began to close, the warmth of their shared laughter filling the space. As the leaves fell outside, a gentle reminder of change, Olivia realized that while insecurities would come and go, the love and support of the man beside her would remain constant—a source of strength illuminating her path, enabling her to see how beautiful it is to feel vulnerable, yet loved.