Harry Styles

Matilda

The bike rests in the corner of the garage. You stumble towards it, music in your ears, tears slowly falling. Silent. Always silent. You wheel it outside, the music flowing through you. You went faster. And faster. And faster. Until the world around you was a blur. The music overtook, telling you it was all alright, that it was no big deal. The tears stopped. You sit on your bed, writing by candlelight. Chapters upon chapters until you realize. "Nothing 'bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'till now." So, you hide it. Hide the book like you did with the dangerous feeling. And you smile. It's no big deal. Weak. The word echos in your head. You aren't weak. You forced the tears away, shoving aside all you questioned, and continued. "You can let it go." The few sentences you never knew you needed, sung to you on repeat. You say you don't. You don't need them. Didn't need support. Comfort. Screams. You flinch, destruction consuming the house. Glass breaks. Counting the days 'till you could leave was the only thing that kept the tears at bay. No. Family. Family came first. The tears stopped. Note after note, you write. Pouring out your feelings. Normal. This was normal. Fragile, you told yourself. Fake. You closed the book. Empty. You knew something was missing. The tears fall. "You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days." "You can let it go." You wanted to. You wanted to learn. You wanted to accept. To stop doing this on your own. Wrong. No. You loved your family. Overreacting. The music stops. Box after box is stacked in a truck. You were running. Weak. Your mind screams, fighting against everything you think. Unnatural. Wrong. Weak. You didn't need help. Year after year, you learn. You let go. You find love. You realize that time won't change your mind. They cannot hurt you anymore. Safe.
"You can let it go."
You created a new life. A family that loved you.
"You can let it go."
And she did.