Canon | (Harry Styles AU)

[thirty nine]

-harry
i know that the last thing you want to hear is an apology from me. what i did was so wrong..but now that im in my right mind i know that apologizing is the only thing i can think to do..with all my heart, harry, im sincerely sorry.

you must think im crazy. i single handedly f*ck up your life and try talking to you and apologizing as if it's an type of consolation..and i don't blame you. because i am crazy, or at least that's how i feel. maybe i'll learn to embrace it or something..who knows. im sure by now you've noticed that there are many sides to me..it's not because I choose to be a two faced b*tch, or a weak, scared cry baby from one second to another.

im bipolar. im sure you've heard of it..if not ill give you the definition my brother james, a licensed psychiatrist, gave me when he finally got me calmed down after he drove me to the middle of nowhere.

bi·po·lar dis·or·der (noun)
- a disorder associated with mood swings ranging from depressive lows to manic highs.

should i just darken those words on this paper a million more times or did i get the idea of what i have across just fine? that was a joke..jokes jokes jokes. i feel like one big joke. im a messy person..I leave messes everywhere i go.i f*cked up the life of the one person who actually knew me. if you're wondering..it's you. if you haven't completely erased me from your brain then maybe you can remember those moments we shared where i was actually kind of a decent person, you know normal?..if not it's cool. i get it, i f*cked up big time.but that's more of who i am and im realizing now that ive sorta got myself under control and that's the person i want to be. that person you somehow saw through all the smoke and mirrors.

im on medication now..i have been since i left. it's doing good things for me, or at least that's what i keep telling myself when i have to swallow a cocktail of drugs everyday. therapy really helps too..oh and not getting yelled at or beat everyday does a world of wonders too i guess.

im rambling and i don't really have a lot of paper(drawing is all I can do) so let me just get back on track..im bipolar sorry, so that's kinda why im so EVERYWHERE, i just get so distracted. especially since there's so much i want to say to you..its funny actually because i tried writing you but james wouldn't let me mail the letter so i just sent you a drawing i did of you in the car.i actually draw you a lot..creepy sorry but it's what i do whenever james tells me to relax after one of my episodes..thats what i was sorta having when i told everyone lies about you..i guess that's why they believed it, i was on the verge of hysteria.

anyway back to the point of this letter..i have a kinda huge favor to ask.i know im in absolutely no place to ask for a favor but you're the only one i trust.even though i really don't want to, i have to go back home. now i know that doesn't sound so bad (or does it?) but by coming home i won't be able to just take medication..my father won't allow it. apparently when i was a kid i went ballistic and doctors told him it was because i probably inherited the disorder from my mom(who's also bipolar, and not on medicine).my father uses it to his advantage..all this time i just thought my mom was afraid which she is only its more complicated than that.i guess i got the sh*t end of the gene stick and being bipolar affects me a lot more than it does my mom.

james became a psychiatrist for me, he wanted to help me. my dad doesn't know what james' job actually is since james basically ran away after finishing high school.so when my dad sent me to live in nevada he thought id be out camping and crap but really james has been helping me. and that's when he came up the idea of mail me meds to a different address, aka your place. if it's not too much to ask I really hope you let me use your address and stash my meds at your place.if my father found them i really don't know what he'd do..i just know it wouldn't be good.

if it's too much for you ill understand..you can just send the package back and all will be done.

thanks & sorry again.
i don't think ill ever be able to stop saying it..

-jo

This note turns around in my head and I don't know what to think or how to feel about it. I know that saying I believed every word was gullible and just plan dumb, but I honestly believed every word.

It just made sense.

Her mood swings, her fits of anger and sadness, behaving recklessly..it just made sense. It was a hell of a lot better of an explanation then the one she gave me last time.

I rest against the kitchen counter and stare at the box in front of me, then down at the bent letter. I roll the images from the last time I saw her in my head and remember how different she had seemed to me. Jo had always been like a huge whirlwind of energy (good and bad), either taking or ruining anything in her way. But she wasn't like that last time. She was calm, almost too calm. I'm sure I was just too high to even notice much else but those were things I'd never forget. She was different.

"How was the ride home?" I hear my mother's smiling voice call from the doorway. Unsure of how to even take this information myself, I quickly grab the letter and the box and head for the stairs.

"It was good," I nod, rushing past her, well my version of rushing.

"Oh I'm so glad you liked it bub..," She tells me, then asking,"What's in the box?"

"Zayn mailed me some sh*t," I shrug,"I'm just going to go shower..my legs smell like peanut butter and sweat."

My mom laughs, continuing her way to the kitchen, clearly buying my lie. Well half lie..my legs really did stink. I walk up the stairs for the first time all summer and I lock myself in my bedroom.

I set down the box and stare at the letter reading it again. I don't even know why reading it was important. I don't know why any of it was still important to me. I thought this was done and over with forever ago.

I put my hands at the sides of my head and shut my eyes and try to think, or feel. But I'm drawing nothing but blanks. I reach into the drawer where I hid Jo's pictures and I pull them out flipping through each of them, skipping over the ones that hurt to see, the ones where she was nearly broken.

I stop on the one picture that was always my favorite. Her hair wasn't perfect and her outfit was completely casual, she wasn't wearing makeup and her teeth were in this weird position but for some reason it was my favorite. I think it's because her eyes weren't clouded with sadness like they sometimes were when she smiled, and her body didn't have any marks on them. It's like she forgot to be something else. She was just herself.

This was one of the moments she asked me to remember her as. But she didn't even need to ask. It's what made forgetting her so hard to begin with. I couldn't stop remembering these moments. Sure, now that I spent most of my time with Annette I didn't think of Jo as often, it was a lot easier but when I was alone or shooting shots..those thoughts always ran through my mind..those memories are what helped make it easier for me to finish up my project. It wasn't something I could talk about. I saw the light in her, and nothing else really mattered to me.

That's the Jo I knew, the one that I really liked and cared for. The one I connected with. I know things probably would never go back to the way they were especially because I was happy with where I now was, but I just couldn't forget Jo completely..not now. It made me almost smile to know I wasn't crazy for seeing these memories as the real Jo, not the Jo that kissed every boy in the room or tore me down to make herself feel better.

That wasn't who I saw her as. And now, neither did she.