Catching Kelce

Right My Wrongs

Kansas City
Travis

As I read through Harry's open letter, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. The weight of my misunderstanding crashed down on me like a ton of bricks. Harry's words painted a picture starkly different from the one I had imagined, revealing the innocence of their farewell kiss.

I felt a surge of regret wash over me, realizing the depth of the mistake I had made. My insecurities and fears had clouded my judgment, leading me to misinterpret the situation and damage my relationship with Dua in the process.

With a heavy heart, I reached for my phone, my fingers shaking as I typed out a message to Dua. "I just read Harry's open letter," I began, the words a reflection of the remorse weighing heavily on me. "I'm so sorry, Dua. I misunderstood everything. Please, let me make it up to you."

As I hovered over the send button, a wave of doubt washed over me. Was it too soon to reach out to Dua? Would she even want to hear from me after everything that had happened?

With a heavy sigh, I set my phone down, my fingers trembling slightly as I wrestled with my emotions. Part of me longed to apologize and make things right with Dua, but another part feared rejection and further disappointment.

As the minutes ticked by, I found myself consumed by indecision. What if reaching out only made things worse? What if Dua had already moved on, leaving me behind to deal with the consequences of my actions alone?

In the end, I couldn't bring myself to send the message. The fear of rejection and the uncertainty of what lay ahead were simply too overwhelming. And so, with a heavy heart, I let the opportunity slip through my fingers, knowing deep down that I may come to regret it in the days to come. But for now, all I could do was wait and hope for another chance to make things right.

Malibu
Dua

As I read Harry's open letter, a sense of gratitude washed over me, mingled with a tinge of sadness. Despite everything that had transpired between us, he had taken the time to set the record straight and offer a sincere apology. It was a gesture that I couldn't help but appreciate, even if it didn't change the reality of our situation.

Inspired by Harry's honesty and vulnerability, I felt a surge of creativity welling up inside me. With a pen in hand and a blank sheet of paper before me, I began to pour my heart out in song, channeling all of my conflicting emotions into music and lyrics.

The melody flowed from me effortlessly, each note a reflection of the love and pain that I had experienced in equal measure. And as the words took shape on the page, I found myself singing of the struggle to reconcile my feelings – the desire to hate him for the hurt he had caused, and yet, the inability to.

Hung all my clothes in the closet you made
Your shoes still in boxes, I send them your way
Hoping life brings you no new pain
I rearrange my memories
I try to rewrite our life
But no matter how I try to (mm)
And no matter how I want to (mm)
And no matter how easy things could be if I did
And no matter how guilty, I still feel saying it
I wish I hated you
I wish that weren't true
Wish there was worse to you
I wish you were worse to me
Yeah, I wish I hated you
Our shadows dance in a parallel plane
Just two different endings, you learn to repair
And I learn to keep me in one place
So close (so close) and yet so far (so far)
If only we had known from the start
But no matter how I try to (mm)
And no matter how I want to (mm)
And no matter how easy things could be if I did
And no matter how guilty, I still feel saying it
I wish I hated you
I wish that weren't true
Wish there was worse to you
I wish you were worse to me
Yeah, I wish I hated you

It was a song of heartache.  I sat with the finished song in hand, I knew that it was more than just a piece of music. It was the final chapter of Harry and I in song form.

As I finished writing the song, a sense of relief washed over me, accompanied by a newfound clarity. The melody and lyrics had served as a cathartic release, allowing me to process my emotions and find a sense of peace within myself.

But as I set the paper aside and glanced at my phone, the temptation to reach out to Travis gnawed at me. Part of me longed to share my creation with him, to bridge the gap that had formed between us and find solace in his understanding. Every fiber of my being longed to bridge the gap between us, to mend the fractured pieces of our relationship with a simple message.

Yet, a part of me hesitated, held back by the uncertainty of where we stood and the fear of further disappointment. But as my thumb hovered over the send button, doubt and hesitation crept in like shadows in the night. What if he didn't want to hear from me? What if my message only served to reopen old wounds and dredge up painful memories?

In the end, I chose to trust my instincts and honor the space that Travis had asked for. With a heavy heart, I set my phone down, knowing that some things were better left unsaid – at least for now.

Author's note
Who do you think will make the first move?