Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

83

Not looking back is really fucking hard when that's all I'm doing writing this speech.

With less than a week until the event, I've gone through probably a notebook and a half worth of paper. I've tried everything to get my mind to the place I feel like it needs to be to help me put my life experience and what it's taught me into words.

I've been sober, I've been stoned, drunk, freshly fucked, sexually frustrated, dead tired, and wide awake with two hundred and fifty milligrams of caffeine running through my veins- Nothing helps. It's fucking hopeless.

I tear out yet another page and throw it in the bin next to my desk. My new desk. In my new office. In my new building. Well, my newly rented top floor of a building that's a block and a half further from the hotel than the old one. I don't mind it though, the fresh air helps clear my head.

Harry drove me to work the first few days, but I quickly tired of that. I don't necessarily enjoy being carted to work and dropped off with a kiss and a lunch bag like it's my first day of preschool. I'd rather walk the extra mile in a downpour.

It's nothing against Harry, not at all. I love that he wants to take such care of me, bless him. I just need my independence. I need to do things on my own and not have anybody hold my hand while I do it. Although, it's very comforting to know he'd be right there in a second if I needed him, for anything. It's ironic that it actually makes me feel stronger knowing that. Like we're a unified team. Which, I guess we are.

The office is a fucking mess. There's unpacked boxes everywhere and piles of things stacked in every corner. A lot of the girls are working on the floor, their unassembled desks right next to them. It's not that they can't do it, it's that they'd rather get actual work done, and I can't fault them for that. The more money they make, the more money I make to pay for this place.

The rent isn't too insane, but it's a building that was finished less than two years ago and it's still in a nice part of the city. It's also triple the size of the old building. There's enough room here for everyone to have their own personal office, so we're planning to make the emptiness in the middle a lounge area/break space. I have the designs laid out on my desk, but I haven't been able to move forward with them quite yet due to other, more pressing, issues.

Harry took Mark's threats to Rachel, the company's lead lawyer, and she started shutting shit down right away. She tore the documents that he pushed in our faces apart, not leaving any sentence or accusation left out of her rebuttal. She even threatened to counter sue, on the grounds of some kind of legal jargon that I won't pretend to understand. She and Harry both tried to explain it to me more than once, but I gave up trying. I trust them both, I'm sure it's solid.

Mark's lawyer folded quickly against Rachel. Which may have something do to with her suggesting his license should be investigated, seeing as how he knows he doesn't have a leg to stand on and still went forward with the suit. I'm sure the cash Mark was willing to cough up made that decision real easy for him. Mark's attorney is fine on a normal day probably, but no one compares to a corporate lawyer, especially when that lawyer is Rachel.

I'm hoping this is the end of a shitty run of luck for Harry and I. I won't be saying that out loud and I'll be knocking on every piece of wood I see, in case the universe decides to take my inner monologue to heart just to spite me. I'm just tired. I'm tired and I know Harry is tired.

He's been going to therapy at least once a week, and calling her if he gets too inside his head and can't find a way out. It's been really nice to see him actually use the tools he has to cope and find an outlet for his feelings instead of having them simmer inside until they explode out anyway.

We've both been sleeping a lot better, since he was prescribed not only a sleeping medication, but also an anti-anxiety one. It was a little rough at first, him coming to terms with starting the meds. He was afraid they'd make him different, like he wouldn't be able to feel anything at all. I assured him that's not how they work, but if he starts to feel uncomfortable at any point we can call his doctor to change something.

It's only been a few weeks, so it's a little soon to say, but I think his smile reaches his eyes a little more lately. I think he's sleeping, really resting, and isn't having to deal with racing thoughts or worrying about everything in the world on top of his shoulders for the first time in awhile. It's not that he seems happier, because my boy has always been the sun in the sky to me, he just seems calmer. At peace, almost.

Peace is what we've always needed. I think he's rubbing off on me, because I'm starting to feel it too.
Although, I get a little scared when I start to feel too comfortable. Afraid if I let myself sit in the calm and rejoice in it, it will crumble. It's not like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, like before the attack. It's just very foreign. I'm not used to not having to look over my shoulder.

Even when I had moved on from Johnny and he never even crossed my mind, I felt like there was something holding me back. Something I couldn't escape, no matter how hard I fought for it. But now, that feeling is gone. I'm free.

The relief of that is sometimes replaced with fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what the fuck comes next. Fear of losing it all. Fear of what if I'm happy, really happy, for the first time in a long time, and it gets taken from me again.

The only solace I'm able to find is in Harry. He is everything to me. He is my heart, my soul, my joy, my pain. He is the moon and the stars and everything in between.

It's become so clear to me in these past couple of months that no matter what, he is exactly what I need. He is everything I've ever wanted and more. He is my soft place to land and the home I want to live in forever. With him, I will never need anything else. He is my peace.