War Lips (Harry Styles A.U.)

Chapter 7

Could there ever be an ending of suffering or a beginning of joyment? The lament of heartbreak can at the same time be a silent passion for the neverending feeling of being alive. You can never feel alive without the feeling of wanting to die or the close approximety of the joy andrenaline rushing to your brain telling you to either fight or flight from death. Maybe that is why we all want to die or go on roller coaster or fall in love. Why is it the need for love so unbearably pleasing to think of and feel in the while motion of the moment but when it is all over there is such grief of ever believing such horrid feeling. Maybe as Pointdexter had once said," We were all just humans drunk on the idea that love, only love could heal our brokenness." This was just an idea, abstract feeling really. We could not feel it or even see it. Maybe to someone to see love is to see old people holding hands or a mother with her child. But to someone with an actual thinking it is just something that has gone so mainstream that it is like having the latest toy when we were younger. We would see the exclusive people with it and feel the need the gravitational pull to be just as cool and in s they were so we would throw tamtrums in the stores to our parents hoping, praying that the embarresment of their child's tramtrum in front of a whole store would make them go a deep red in the cheeks and an invisibe cloud of wanting to cry or rage to their child to why they could not just stop. By then, they think that the only way to stop their child from the embaressment and not being know as that parent that could not control their child in the toy section in walmart, our parents buy the stupid toy. What they do not see is that it is actually hurting us from letting us believe that if we just cry enough and throw tamtrums enough, we will get what we want. How could this not be true? We had done it to our parents and they are the toughest on us in our greedy beady eyes so it must work on everyone with a "heart". Right? this is when we begin to cry when there is a heartbreak. Or when we have crushes and they do not reciplicate our feelings to us. It seems to be such a peculiar subject for me to think about. But how could I not? I was the three year old tearing up and sobbing in bed because of how Harry, my husband was gone to war. A concentration camp. What was that? I honestly had no idea and had gone to phone every single one of my friends and his friends that had family in the war. However the same response was said to me every time I had asked. An I dunno was always uttered and then following that was a how are you honey? How dare they ask me? I was much more of capable to take care of myself even if I was stupid and/or retarted as older people would claim I was. I was always crying when I was younger and my parents' freinds would say that whenever they talked about me. Of course I had to be the only daughter. My mom had many misscarriges due to her small body. If anything I was starting to doubt my existence now. Having Harry gong was absolutely killing me. Maybe I was weak and very dependant on him but t was how I was taught when I was younger. Be a good girl Emma, and always depends on us or you will be hurt. My mother's words would always echo my head when I had to make decisions about my independence. I was boring.