Capturing Time [H.S.]

Chapter 21

24 months

Harry-

The launch of the LA tattoo shop Novel Ink went better than to be expected.

I'd moved to Hollywood for a year. Oversaw the construction, design, hiring, and management of the new build. Got it up and running, because I was good at it.

Niall came with me because he didn't want me to be alone.

We were set to head back to Malibu in a few weeks. Get back to tattooing full time, even though I'm good at the management shit, I'm a better artist. I fucking miss having a gun in my hand all day.

I miss the rush of seeing my work on someone's skin. Seeing my designs come to life. Seeing my art make a difference.

I haven't heard from Will. Not since she sent me that card.

I don't check her Instagram or Snap Chat as much as I used to. I'm happy she's happy. I'm fucking proud she's doing so well for herself. But, I'm afraid of what I will find if I look.

I've gone on a few dates.

Actually that's bullshit.

I haven't dated.

I've what Colson calls been "fucking my pain away."

Going out, getting hammered, ending the night in a bathroom stall, or an alley way, with a bird who looks nothing like her.

In the morning when I wake up I'm left with a wicked hangover and nothing but the taste of regret lingering on my lips.

I did that for about six months.

Couldn't stand the way it made me feel.

Even though we haven't been together for two years it still feels like I'm cheating on her.

So I stopped.

Completely.

I haven't had sex in over eight months.

It's the longest I've ever gone without it.

When you've had that connection, that feeling of truly being one with someone else... Sex is fucking empty without it.

It's not the same.

After a while, I had to start imagining I was with her to even get hard. That felt...Dirty. Wrong. Disrespectful.

So I quit looking for what I had with Will in someone else.

I wasn't going to find it ever again. Not without her.

I had to leave when I did. Being at home, being around everything that she loved, everyone that loved her. That shit was fucking hard.

Too hard.

I needed to get the fuck out. For my sanity. For my heart. For my fucking soul.

Looking at my best friends everyday, knowing they talk to her, knowing she talked to them... Man I was a jealous asshole.

At least Niall was better at hiding his looks of disappointment. He was better at pretending he didn't think I was a complete moron for ending shit when I did.

He knows I know I was. He knows I beat myself up more than anyone else ever could.

She was the love of my life. She was my best fucking friend. She was everything. I fucked that up.

I have to live with that.

I don't need to be reminded.

I tell myself every day what a wanker I am.