(His POV)
Where do you go when you've lost everything? When you've destroyed all you've loved, all you've ever needed? Where do you go? What are you suppose to do? These were the new questions of my life...And I had no answers. So here I sat on my bathroom floor, with scissors in my hands, and praying for the will to make the first cut. 'I'm such a coward.’ I thought to myself, as I couldn't find it in me to make the first intention in my arm. You just lift, press, cut, done. Why couldn't I do it? I hated myself like no other; I destroyed everything, why couldn't I destroy myself?
It all came flooding back, with that thought. All the memories of us; together, happy, fighting, loving, crying, and of course me destroying all of it. Destroying isn't like breaking or shattering, No. It's completely different. There are no broken pieces that you can put back together, nope, they're all destroyed, demolished, gone. Just like I should be. Tears turned into sobs, and the scissors fell from my shaking hands. Then everything was dark.
I woke up on the bathroom floor, confused about everything. Till it all came rushing back, and hit me like a ton of bricks. Ugh. My head hurt, my eyes were swollen, and everything pretty much sucked. I shakily stood up, tried not to look at the piece disgustingness in the mirror, and unlocked the door to get out. I should have expected it as I opened the door to our bedroom, I should have been realistic with myself, but I wasn't. And the amount of pain that went coursing through my body, as I saw all her stuff missing, was too much, God it was just too much.
Our bedroom, or should I say mine now, just looked empty, pointless, lonely, eerie, I could go on. I continued into this newly cold area, and fell back on the bed, with the life out of my body. I didn't know where my phone was, but I bet I had about a million messages for being MIA for the past few days. I should be in the studio right now. Yea, like that's really about to happen. I just needed to disappear, fade away.
I got out of bed, with quite the struggle, went down stairs, and hunted for any alcohol that I hadn't already consumed last night. I heard someone banging on the door, but I could honestly give a shit.
"Harry! Open the fucking door! Open it or I'm breaking it down!" Louis...Ooh Louis, I loved him, he was great friend, I didn't deserve him, or anything. Everyone thinks were not as close as we use to be, but we just grew up. We don't do the childish things we use to do, or not as much anyway, but he's still my best friend, always. Right now though, I wasn't talking to anyone. I couldn't, I couldn't bear to tell anyone because that made it real, and I couldn't handle that. Vodka, finally I found something. That'll do. I grabbed my new form of mediation and headed back up the stair to our, ooh I mean my, bedroom. One sip, two sips, I don't know many fucking sips, and finally Louis's knocking was drowned out by darkness.
One mistake, one drunken mistake, and it's all gone. Even my dreams wouldn't let me escape it. It was like some remote control got stuck on repeat, and the vision of her walking in on me taking off some other girl's dress. Ugh. It was burnt into my mind. The pain in her eyes was forever tattooed on brain. She was already so damaged from other dicks, like myself, and her childhood. She trusted me, and I fucked up. I remember zipping the girl's dress back up and getting her off me, in my drunken state was hard, but I tried to chase Y/n I really did. It was too late, she had seen all she needed, and she was done.
In that moment I tried to make myself feel better, by saying, that I didn't actually do anything, we both were still clothed, but the thing is, what if Y/n hadn't walked in? Would I have stopped? I didn’t know. And that was killing me. Once my dreams were done tearing me apart, I was released into consciousness, which wasn't any better.
