Golden || H.S. ||

Chapter 33

Harry Styles
—
Saturday, August 28th - 5:46am

     I hate myself.

     Sounds dramatic, I know, but it's true. I've hated myself for quite a while now... years, actually. Maybe even my whole life now that I think about it. It's like I'm programmed to fuck up the life of anyone who's path crosses mine, and it all started with my mother, of course. Part of me is convinced she wasn't this much of a heartless bitch before having me, but somehow my DNA must have warped whatever warmth or kindness she ever possessed while she was pregnant with me.

     And my dad... I've screwed up his life in so many ways. I turned who he thought was his soulmate into a selfish money-seeking whore, I was too attached to him growing up so he wasn't able to ever get out there and have a life of his own, I kept Arthur a secret from him only to have him find out the way he did, I made him fly and move to another continent which resulted in him missing the last few years of his parents' lives, and now I've basically forced him into keeping Lauren in the dark about Zara along side me just by his association with me. It surprises me that he still loves me at all, but that just shows what a wonderful man and father he is. I don't deserve him.

     I know I definitely don't deserve Lauren, either. I can't even fathom how much damage I must have done to her from all of this. I did exactly what I told Gia I wouldn't do; I teased her with the idea of companionship when I knew I couldn't follow through. Not in the way she deserves, anyway. But I swear, every time I was near her, I... just... she'd put me under a spell. She entranced me. Anything outside of her and I would vanish from my mind as soon as I laid my eyes on her, and all I could focus on was keeping her. But even in that, I still fucking failed, and whatever feelings she had for me are tainted now. She'll never see me the same.

     I'm forcing myself to have hope, though. I have to. She removed the scotch tape I had wrapped around myself so that she could be the stronger duct tape to hold me together, and now here I've gone and ripped it all off. But if I completely let her go I'll break, and I'm terrified of what that would look like. So, even though I'm aware of how royally I've fucked up, I'm choosing to have hope that maybe this isn't the end for us. Maybe she just needs a little time, and I'll have to suck it up and give her patience. It's literally the least I could do for her at this point. When she's ready, I believe she'll reach out, and I know I'll drop everything for her in that moment. I'm hers, after all. I'll always be hers.

     My phone buzzing against my nightstand brings me to open my sore, hot eyelids. I've been rubbing them too much from trying to keep myself from crying, so now the skin feels extremely raw. It takes me a moment to come out of my daze a bit, seeing as I haven't slept at all tonight, but once I realize that the buzzing was signaling an incoming text, my body surges with a bolt of energy and I immediately sit up from my hopeful panic. Grabbing the phone and looking at the screen, I see her name and instantly feel like my nonexistent prayers have been answered. After unlocking it and opening up her messages, I see a very simple text.

Lauren
Hi

     I sit up more and lean against my headboard, staring at that tiny word and trying to figure out what she's thinking so that I can decide how to respond.

Is she being so short because she's mad?

Is she just waking up?

Or has she been up all night too?

Is she still crying?