Harry || h.s.

0.8- Harry

three years before

I waited for her call, waited and waited and waited again. but it never came. 

I tried to brush it off, not let it hurt as much as I knew it did. 

for the last seven years, I had tried to not let the pain mess with every aspect of my life, and yet now it was here facing me as it had never done before. 

I wanted her, fuck did I want her. need her, but I didn't what to do. I had put myself out there, then fucking left. I thought she would understand, truly believed she would understand. call me at least to say this was the end but nothing came. I did everything I was supposed to do for work, made sure to be the best just so I could have the time to go back, to see her, explain. 

but it didn't work like that, it would never work like that. 

my manager filled all of my time up, no second wasted. I woke up early, went to bed late. no time to think or do anything except pay attention to my music and all the things that came with it. 

conflicted I worked to try and achieve something to make people happy. and I waited for her call. 

"did Karen text you?" I asked one day but he had shaken his head. 

"no, but I got an email-"

the sadness slowly turned to anger. what had I done? was it just some sick joke for her to get back at me for not reaching out for seven years? I hadn't left her she left me and I understood that, knew that I couldn't change what had happened to her. knew she needed space to heal and now even if I had left this time it still hurt just as much. only this time I was the one who had started it. 

now I wasn't angry at her only at myself. I had a chance to pick then and I had picked wrong. and if she didn't want to call me then I wouldn't reach out and hurt her anymore. I had caused enough trouble. 

and I wanted to talk to Fletcher but knew he probably didn't want to talk to me. 

speaking to my father at the wedding had been something else, the conversation bland as he slurred and I wondered if he would even remember it. 

but I couldn't stop thinking about her. 

hair curling around her ear, cheeks still dusted that light array of freckles covered in that pink flush. I guessed it was from the Champagne but hoped it was me. and laying in the bed with her, kissing that soft skin on her shoulder as she slept, I wished I was back there. 

now I lay in bed alone, I question if this was better. but it couldn't have been because what I imagined, what I had experienced with her was always better than whatever I was doing now or was going to be doing. 

everyone was moving forward without me and I would just have to follow, alone. still hung up on the only girlfriend I had had was going to be depressing for anyone who came near me. and my manager wanted me to channel it all into my work. and it was the only thing that seemed to help. 

that and drinking, a lot. 

reverting back to bad habits wasn't good but it was better than flying back to question everyone I had left. and I had left them. it was me who had done it. I had pushed them away without question. it was my fault for not being in contact with anyone, not even my old school friends. I couldn't tell you what they were up to.

I had made sure to stay off of social media for similar reasons. I didn't want to see a life I left behind to be upset with myself. 

I could have stayed, waited for her to come back as she had. won her back, been happier than I was now. 

tonight I sat in my hotel room in new york drinking stale whisky wanting her like I have never wanted anything before. I was in love with her, would be for the rest of my life, knew I'd never find another love like her. she hadn't even done much, only been there, changed me. 

maybe I liked hurting myself, maybe I never deserved her. I knew I didn't, knew that as much as I knew I loved her, love her. 

fuck. 

I shouldn't have left, shouldn't have gone. 

but I did. 

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sorry bout the filler chapter