changes {harry styles}

Chapter 7

It had been 2 and 1/2 months since the crash, 2 and 1/2 months since I had last seen Harry, and 2 and 1/2 months since I had been truly happy.
I remembered the night before the crash, how happy we were. Now, every day was the same. I woke up, fed the dog and cats, went to work, came home, ate dinner, and went to sleep. I never went out with Alex, I never went shopping or did anything. I couldn't even drive my car without seeing Harry in the passenger seat. Alex picked me up every morning and took me home every afternoon. My mom was convinced I was depressed, and I agreed. I refused to go to the doctor or see a therapist. I didn't want to talk about what happened. I didn't want to remember it at all. I tried to pretend like it never happened. But at the end of every day, I would check my phone, somewhat hoping I would get a text from the one person I missed the most. The one person I wanted to forget, Harry. I missed him more than words could explain. He was the one good thing in my life besides my big fat dog. But every day, I had to wake up and try to forget his existence.
I woke up Saturday morning, got dressed and ran outside where Alex was waiting.
"Want to go out with me and some of my friends after work?" She asked.

"No." I mumbled, staring out the window.

"Addison, this is bullshit." She pulled over.

"What."

"You can't just sit around and fucking whine about this the rest of your damn life! I know you loved him or whatever but holy shit, you can't just sit at home and do nothing. You can either stop fucking complaining about missing him and hang out with me or go fucking find him and talk to him. Seriously Addison, this is bad. You're going to to crazy, and I'm not going to just sit here and let that happen."

I sat there for a minute, staring and thinking about what she said. Then I made my decision. I got out of her car and started walking. And I knew exactly where I was going. To find Harry.
What other option did I have honestly? Alex was right. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called him. It rang, and rang, and rang. He didn't answer. I called again, and again, getting a bit more upset each time. The 5th time, I left a voicemail.

"Okay harry. I know you left, and yeah that's really fucked up. Leaving your dying girlfriend alone in the hospital. But you can't do that. You can't just ignore me now. So you can man the fuck up, answer your phone, and tell me where the hell you are, or I can find you myself. Your choice. I suggest you chose my first option, because I'm already fairly pissed off and if you don't answer your phone or call me back I'll probably get even angrier. But it's up to you. Goodbye, Styles."

~
I heard my phone ring for the 5th time, I was drunk as hell and didn't feel like answering. I heard the answering machine beep and then a familiar voice on the other end. I listened to her voice mail and basically lost it, I fucked up. I really, really, fucked up. I couldn't call her back. What would I say? "Hey, sorry for ditching you when you were possibly going to die and not talking to you for 2 months." There just wasn't a way to apologize. I could tell her where I was, sitting on Zayn's couch, drunk out of my mind with Louis getting high beside me, but she probably would flip the fuck out and I didn't want that. I was stuck in a terrible position.