Don't Forget Me (Larry AU)

I'm Trying

February 1st, 2012

Dear Harry,

I'm trying. I really am.

My mum is still telling me you're really gone, you're not getting my letters, you're not here with us anymore. But, how can I believe?

You were never found. You're gone.

You're not physically here, physically you left. Mentally you're still here with me. Mentally you never left.

My old therapist said I should stop writing to you, because it's not helping. She was right, though. The more I write to you the more I feel myself caving in. But I'm not going to leave you like you left me.

I know I've said it before, but I know I could have stopped it. I could have prevented it. I saw them take you, I saw everything happen. I stood there and waited, waited. I waited. I waited too long and now you're gone. If I had just never taken my mother to the bank, if I had told her to take the bus, if I had just gotten to the park five minutes earlier. It could have made all the difference.

I wasn't going to write to you today, because it's your birthday. I think I should be wallowing in my own pity, waiting for you to come back. But I couldn't just not write to you. It wouldn't be fair.

I love you.

I miss you.

Please come home.

You've been gone for two years, two years too long. I can't go anywhere near that park anymore. I can't even go downtown really. It hurts too much. Liam and Zayn have been trying to get me to go out with them, have fun they say. I can't go out and have fun. You don't get to do it anymore, so why should I? Why should I enjoy myself? Why should I be here when you're lost out there?

I love you.

I miss you.

Please, please come home.

I won't forget you. I'm not giving up hope until you're found. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love you.

I miss you.

Come home.

Louis x

I set down my pen and leaned back in my chair. I stared down at the page. I wrote the almost the same thing everyday. I wrote to Harry, then I put them in a box under my bed.

"Honey, dinner is ready." My mother poked her head in my room and smiled. I nodded and she left.

You've really fucked it up, Louis.

"Shut up," I whispered to myself.

Nothing's the same, Louis.

"Stop."

You haven't escaped from anything, Louis.

I sighed. I got up from my chair and looked out my window to the house across the street. Mrs. Bucholz was outside watering her grass, and her fat cat, Colbie, was laying in a small patch of sun. I've always hated that cat.

I didn't want dinner.

I didn't want anything.

I locked my door and sat on my bed. I let the lyrics tumble out of my mouth, like I did every night.

Look at the stars,

Look how they shine for you,

And everything you do, yeah,