Holding On (A Harry Styles Love Story)

Moments

Beep….beep….beep….beep....

 

I glared at the heart monitor- the wicked machine that constantly reminded me of Harry’s cruel fate. Holding one of his large hands in two of mine, I sat beside his bed in silence. I studied his face- the face that had once held a smile. The face that once lit up in laughter. The face streaked with tears as he stood in my living room. The face on the other side of the web-cam. The face that possessed passion and love.

Now, that face was nothing but a future victim of death.

His eyelids never stirred. His forehead had no creases. The lips that I had kissed so many times were slightly parted, as if he were about to speak but couldn’t find the words. Scratches were splattered upon his face like thin, red streaks of paint. His chest slowly rose and quickly fell every few seconds. Is this what we would say goodbye to? A practically lifeless being that could never respond? None of us would ever know what the last thing on his mind was. He would never be able to tell us.

He wouldn’t be able to tell his mother and sister that he loved them. He would never thank the boys for being brothers to him and for providing him with so many unforgettable experiences. He wouldnever get to hug any more of his fans.

He would never look at me again with love in his eyes.  His eyes. I would never get to see the richness of his beautiful green eyes again.

Tears didn’t burden me anymore. The only thing I felt was an ache in my heart and a lump in my throat. Everything was still so surreal. But at the same time, it was all too real…

I was the only one in the room with him. After my incident outside, I woke up and found myself on the couch. The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was pull up a foldable chair beside his bed and sit beside him.

 I vowed to myself that I would be with him until he died.

Died.

The concept of death is very complex. To die means to cease to live. To stop existing.

It’s strange for someone to be so alive one moment and to be dead the next. But memories live on. Memories don’t die with the person who does. I guess that’s the only thing that we can hold on to when death strikes- memories. And love. Love is another thing that, when it’s strong enough, never dies. And I believed that Harry and I had a love that could outlive the earth itself. Although death may seem to conquer love, I still believe that love is much stronger.

So I told myself that. And I believed it. To this day, I still know that love can do anything.

As I gazed at the boy from Holmes Chapel, lying motionless other than the rise and fall of his chest, I thought of the time that my eyes first fell upon the boy with the cheeky smile and mop of curly hair on his head. He was sixteen-years-old on the X-Factor, singing Torn with four other boys. From that moment, I knew that I was going to be painfully in love with him. I thought of when Jessica surprised me with tickets to the concert. I remembered how his green eyes first met my blue ones as I stood in line outside of the arena. I remembered how he serenaded me. I felt all of the butterflies rush through my stomach as I relived our memories. Our first kiss. The first time he told me he loved me. Our Skype dates. The way he would rub slow, soothing circles in my back as I fell asleep. The way he would sing softly to me when I couldn’t sleep.

Then I remembered the simple things, like the way he would smile whenever I told one of my corny jokes. Or the way he ate bananas, and the way I would always make fun of him for it. In the end, the little things become the things that suddenly thrill you.

I tried not to let myself relive our fight. But the image of his splotchy, tear-stained face was all I could see. The way that his eyes pleaded for forgiveness. The way I wouldn’t give it to him.

 But I realized this: Everyone has rough patches. Everyone makes mistakes. Not everyone can make up for theirs, but it’s okay. Because when two people love each other the way Harry and I do, nothing else matters.

The only thing that haunted me was the fact that Harry would die thinking that I hated him. And that would always, always haunt me.

I inhaled deeply, feeling my chest shake. How could I make the best of one of the last moment that I would spend with him? I felt my soul crumble, threatening to break me from the inside-out. But I wouldn’t let it.

Instead, I pushed the chair back, hearing it squeak across the tile floor. I stood up and leaned over the boy I loved. Brushing back a curl from his forehead, I heard the beeps slowing down. They were too slow. I felt a sob rise in my throat, but I choked it down. I leaned down and planted a soft, tender kiss on his lips- the kind of kiss that spoke a thousand words that I couldn’t find. I pulled away, trembling. My voice quivered at I stared to sing,

“You know I’ll be

Your life, your voice, your reason to be

My love, my heart is breathing for this

Moment in time,

I’ll find the words to say

Before you leave me today…”