I Will Make You Feel Perfect

You tell yourself that it would be easy, at first. You sit, convincing yourself that it is, that you could do it with no trouble. You think you can force yourself to do it but its not that simple. It will never be simple. Especially when the circumstances are more important than breathing air. 

Harry is more important than air.

You think that if its doing it for someone that you care so much about, it would be easier. But its not. Its only harder. Having to live for years in hiding isn't easy. Having to pretend daily that you don't love someone more than life itself, its literally a living hell. 

Its like being an amature artist learning how to shade. It looks so easy when you run it through your mind. But when you actually do it, its quite tough. But the difference is that an artist can get better. While this just gets worse. Having to hide everyday, be careful not to show any type of affection, pretending you don't love him. It only gets worse.

Pretending that you're a teenage heart throb, with a beautiful girlfriend, and isn't in love with your bandmate. Whilst the other has to do the same, only making it worse. 

The lie then starts to get to your head. Thinking that this is actually your life. When you have a completely different one, behind closed doors. But you are told that you can't live that way just because its a little different. That people might think wrong of it. But it's your decision isn't it? Why can't you just do whatever you want, live how you want, be with who you want? Why must you be owned? Is this what you wanted when you decided your carreer?

Why is sexuality such a big deal? Why can't you just be who you are? Because people are cruel. With a world as corrupt as ours, some rather die than be who they are. But why is it that way? Why do we have to care about the things that are different? Why let them suffer in who they are, making them think its wrong? Why should it be wrong? Why is the world so cruel?

Why couldn't he just be himself?

...

Louis was in his bathroom. He had been starring in the mirror blankly for god knows how long. Running all of these thoughts through his mind. And he could go on for hours, beating himself up about it. 

He was thinking so long and hard that his stomach was making flips and turns causing him to be nauseous. He turned on the faucet and put his hands under it to wet them a little and then ran them through his hair and down his face. He really needed to calm down. Things always started to get to his head when he was alone. When Harry wasn't there to distract him.

He took in a deep breath and let it out. After taking a one last glance in mirror, he went down the hall of his and Harry's flat and into their bedroom. It was around 10:00 so he decided to get ready for bed before Harry got home from a night out with Niall and Liam. Zayn was a bit under the weather and Louis got Harry to believe he might of caught what Zayn had and he thought he might as well stay home. Harry luckliy didn't see through him and agreed to go without him and hoped he felt better.

Louis sheded everything but his boxers and went to go sit on the bed. He let out a shakey breath and put his face in his hands. He wished so fucking bad that he didn't have such horrible anxiety. He always got worked up over the littlest things and he fucking hated it. 

As he sat and tried to calm down, his mind started to fail him. He started to think back to why he was upset. He mentaly cursed his brain for being a fuck up. He tried his hardest to think of something else but it kept leading to why he hated himself...

Why can't I just be normal like everyone thinks I am? Why can't I just love Eleanor? Why can't I be straight? Why do I have to like guys? Why do I have to love Harry for that matter? Why do I have to make his life miserable as well?