Notorious

Hurt

                  

Isn't is weird how our whole body depends on a heart?

The constant contraction and whir of our heart proves that we are alive. That we are breathing. That we are here.

When you are nervous, or scared, or in love the heart pumps faster and faster, trying to keep up with these emotions. And when you are sad, or shocked, or heart-broken the heart slows and gives you time to adjust. To let everything sink in.

It supplies blood through your veins and to all of your vital organs and flushes out toxins without any conscious effort on our parts.

It keeps us breathing, it keeps us alive.

The heart is the powerhouse of life.

And mine has been broken.

I felt the first crack when I was thirteen and my dad left, the second when my boyfriend in middle school called me fat, the third when I realized my mother would never love me the same way she did Liam, the largest crack just a few years ago when Louis and I broke up.

And I thought it had given up and died then.

But, then Harry came along with his cheesy jokes and dimples and crude compliments and the clouds cleared and the birds were chirping and I felt the flowers inside of me growing through the blankets of fallen snow.

Harry breathed the air back into my lungs.

I could feel my heart beat inside of my chest again. Strong and steady and full of love.

But, it was all a lie.

The clouds have come back and are angrier than ever, the birds are flying into windows and airplanes, the flowers have been stomped on by his expensive Chelsea boots.

My lungs turn black from the poison he breathed into me.

My heart has died.

My vision blurs in front of me and I can't even breathe and Harry just keeps trying to hold me, to touch me, but every time he even comes near me I scream the most anguishing scream and he flinches back as if I had slapped him.

Maybe I should.

Because his words won't stop ringing in my ears –the deal, his lies- and all I can seem to do is go back over every word he ever said to me, every touch, every kiss and try to separate where the lies began and the truth started.

But, I can't. Because the memories of his hands are starting to strangle me.

"Aspen, please just listen to me, okay?" Harry begins to pace the floor when he accepts that I won't let him touch me and I really should just leave and never come back, but my feet won't allow me to move, "I never... I never meant to hurt you. I just... I was desperate when I heard David was naming me, I would've done anything to get out of that situation, but I never wanted – I never wanted this... I-"

"Stop, God. Please, just stop." I choke out, my plea sounding desperate and pained and I am trying really heard not to crumble at his feet, "This is exactly what you wanted! You got me to sing again, you got my mother to be your lawyer, you got a little bit of pussy on the side... This is exactly what you wanted!"

Harry's face scrunches in disgust and dismay and he begins to mumble 'no' over and over under his breath and he reaches out to me again, this time, his hand brushing my arm and I instantly pull away.

My arm stings as if I had been burned and the bile rises up my throat and I never want him to touch me again.

Just the thought of him kissing my skin and whispering in my ear and his hands roaming my body is enough to have me doubling over and clamping a hand over my mouth in an effort to stop the vomit I can feel coming.