Isla Reid is a collegiate gymnast at Oklahoma University. Back in high school, Isla and her best friend, Harry Styles, became very close to one another. However, when exposed to an awkward situation, a rut was left between the two of them. Harry wen...
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October 20, 2022
It's been a week since Harry posted on Instagram and I can't seem to get my mind off of it.
Damnit, Isla. Get over yourself.
There's something so funny about healing, in the way that you never actually fully heal. That no matter how much you try to convince yourself you're okay, you never truly are. The pain and guilt I have felt over Harry's disappearance from my life has eaten away at me for the past two years. Ever since the day that Harry stopped talking to me, I've tried to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't need me. That he is probably better off without me anyways. Most people tend to be.
I lost contact with him in August of 2020 and that October, I finally got myself to finally stop texting him.
I blocked him.
It was the only way I could get myself to stop constantly checking in with him. The lingering thought of 'is he okay?' always floats in my head, but I've become used to having that nagging feeling within me.
I never let myself engage in anything relating to Harry. Competitions, team reunions, holidays, you name it. That was until that notification.
Now, I can't even go one hour without itching to send him a dm asking how he is. Just today alone, I've typed 'harry styles' into the search bar on youtube seven times just to see what would come up. And, every time I would delete the search and close out the tab. That's because I know myself.
All this would do would make me fall into a deep hole of trying to figure out everything he's done with his life for the past two years. I would begin to think about how happy he is, and how everything is going well for him.
That could not be any more different for me.
But, thankfully, I haven't gotten to that point yet.
I groan as I shut my computer and slide it into my bag. I've been in the library for about two hours trying to catch up on psychology notes, but as everyone can probably guess, I haven't typed one word.
I quietly stand up and push my chair in. Taking my book sack by its strap, I throw the bag onto my back before silently leaving the room. Quickly, I go down four flights of stairs to get to the ground floor.
Checking my watch, I realize it's 4 pm, which means I have about an hour to get home on time. I have nothing actually planned to do this evening, but if I don't hit my marks in my daily schedule, my anxiety spikes through the roof.
With that being said, I have about a forty minute walk to our apartment. Multitasking, I pull my headphones out of the front pocket of my book sack as I make my way down the sidewalk. Pulling up Spotify, I quickly hit play on my "current listens" playlist, and tuck my phone into the pocket of my leggings. The song "Reminiscing" by the Little River Band fills my ears, and with that, I make my trek.
