For Lovers Only - [A Zarry Stylik]©️

XXXII- LIAM'S BLOCK PARTY

L,

Making friends means that you take the good and the bad. They have to be there for you, you have to be there for them.

Whenever either one of you is up or down, you should know that your friend is always there to help. It's trickier when you add love into the mix. When you love a friend, it's always a very difficult place to move in. Are you willing to risk it all and fight for their love? Or are you willing to just sit down and watch them from a distance?

When I chose to follow Zayn and be with him, I decided I didn't want him just as a friend. I saw in him everything I wanted to be, to have next to me: Kindness, love presence and companionship. Everything I've ever wanted and looked for.

Someone who could see and understand me without me having to shout it out from the top of my lungs. I could look to my side and there he was. I could pick up the phone and he'd talk to me. I could tell him we should go somewhere and we would go. It was simple. That's why it was so easy to put my print on him because he was simple. A beautiful creature, but a simple one to be moulded and adapted to me. So, all of this is hard.
His absence.

His silence.

Shutting me out completely.

Thinking and knowing that someone else had his heart; that someone else had seen in him what I had seen, broke me inside. Knowing that the lips that once were completely mine had been touched by someone else first, destroyed me and made me recoil. I was not the only person occupying his heart anymore. Now I wonder if I had ever been.

I began looking for signs after our last conversation where I called him all the names I could think of. I walked back in time searching for a moment for a sign or a clue of another presence in my marriage.

I kept looking at every moment, every smile, every touch, every conversation, and every night we slept together. Was there always someone else in our marriage? For how long? And most importantly, who was he?

I had a feeling I knew Him, the Other one. Baby Guy. Zayn's deflections had made it clear, as well as Louis's lack of a direct answer.

So, I knew him.

Worse, I knew I was close to Zayn. I could feel it in my bones. It was in the particles in the air and shivers in the back of my neck. I just needed to spot him in the crowd.

Baby, baby, baby...

That word will never sound the same. It will never feel the same. It was not a word I'd use, and Zayn didn't particularly like me to use it. Nor did it ever come out of his lips towards me.

"Don't call me that," he'd say whenever it slipped out of my lips. He seemed disgusted by it and would physically remove it away from me. "I don't like it."

"Why?"

He'd shrug and shake his head.

"I find it...corny and lame. Everyone uses it."

"You can call me that. I don't mind."

He'd stare at me, pausing for a moment. Thinking. Pondering. I should've seen it.

"No need. Just...call me."

"A bit un-romantic, no?"

He shrugged.

"It's okay. We...we don't need them."

Then, he'd kiss me, and I'd forget all about it. It was a legit request; everyone has words or nicknames they don't like. I didn't take it to heart.