Hey guys here is the next installment of my second book of one shots! I hope you like this cause I spent like three days working on it and Word said that this was nine pages. I hope this works this time cause I had to change the font size. So hopefully this is nice and long. {That's what she said} By the way I really like this one. I put a lot of effort into it. And a lot of emotion. There's a song on the side that I used along with Last Kiss by Taylor Swift. Don't claw my eyes out it was before she spread her dirty ways into Harry's mind. But yeah I think this one has a lot of repressed emotions I have in it, so please do mind me if it gets a little depressing in some parts. Okay! I'll shut up now. Sorry guys this is so long. DX I hope you like it!
Enjoy!
Jade💙
Have you ever felt so lost? So completely and utterly lost... Like nothing could ever make you whole again. No matter how hard you try, or how many times you tell yourself to get over it, you just can't. That's how I feel every day. Every second of every hour I feel this way. But wouldn't you if the love of your life walked out on you? The last thing they left you with is, "I don't love you like I did yesterday." You would. Especially when you spent every day with them. Woke up with them. Went to sleep in their arms. Listened to their heartbeat as you fell asleep. You would feel lost.
I sat in my bed, alone, like always. It was so quiet, it was almost unbearable. The room felt so empty. It didn't even feel like my home anymore. But I spent all of my time in it now. Actually all of my time in my room. The last place I saw him. The last place he kissed me, held my hand. The last place he told me he loved me... The bed was so cold. And I hadn't changed the sheets since he left. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't fall asleep without his scent. I know it sounds sick, but he was my life. My sun rose and set with him. He was my heart. And I think I still haven't come to the fact that he doesn't love me anymore.
I got off the bed and went to the closet. His clothes were still there. Not all of them but a few pieces. His shoes. Some suspenders. His beanie. To think he still had that same grey beanie three years later. I wouldn't doubt there was still salt in it. I smiled a small, sad smile. And I wondered if he would come back for those clothes. I hoped he would. Just so I could see his face one more time. It's been a month and a half since he'd left and I hadn't heard anything from him. I was starting to think that he hated me. Or that I had done something unforgivable. I tried asking why he wanted to break up, but he never answered me.
I brought myself out of the room, for the first time today and went into the kitchen. Everything was a mess. Dishes everywhere, the rubbish was overflown, and in all this house smelled horrific. And even knowing all of that I still couldn't bring myself to clean it. It wasn't because I couldn't, it was because I didn't want to. And I was never like this before. I was always the clean one. I'm just not me anymore. And even though I know all of this, even though I know everyone is worried and I myself know this isn't healthy. I just don't know how to go back to being me...
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my joggers and left the dirty kitchen. I walked around the untouched house. His TOM's were still by the door. And I wondered if he left them there purposely just to torture me. Just as a little reminder that he left. But before I moved onto a new room I saw a bag of garbage next to the door. I walked over to it and opened it up. There were old shoes and pieces of clothing that were ripped and worn. But at the bottom of the bag sat something that looked new and barely worn once. It was the jacket I bought him for his twenty-first birthday.
I pulled the jacket slowly out of the pile of old ruined items and held it in my hands. It was a letterman. It had his initial and it was blue and white. I bought it because I thought he would get a laugh out of it. And when he opened the box that day, he smiled, and said "You did always have a knack for knowing exactly what to get me." And I was so happy that he liked it. He wore it everywhere. It was only six months old. I felt a tear slip from my eye. I at least hoped he would take this. But I guess he just didn't want anything left to remind him of me.
