*I am not resonsible for any tears.*
"Do you remember, when I first saw you, and you first saw me? It was a beautiful moment, my eyes lost in yours, and yours lost in mine. In a crowd of thousands, you only noticed me, and I only noticed you. We spent the days counting, counting how long it would take, until the world realized. Until they found out.
It's been 10 years.
And you're married.
Not to me, but a woman. And you have a beautiful son.
I was forced to marry, someone I didn't love.
We had a little girl, and I named her Darcy.
I was planning to name our little girl Darcy.
But, it seems as if that was a forbidden romance that could never be."
I wrote this in my leather brown notebook as if I was forced to, the tears went through the pages and made it harder for me to write. I remembered the good times we shared, the first time we kissed, the first time we made love, the first time we moved in together, I remember it all.
Maybe if we weren't as young, we could've made our own choices. Now I sit here, in a empty house. My wife left me, my daughter only visits me on the weekends. I sit inside the house you and I shared. The house we made our memories in.
Remember those times we were always asked "Who lives with each other?" And we'd always say we lived together? Remember the time fans started getting suspicious? And we were torn apart?
I remember every stage.
I never denied it like you were forced to.
Remember the time we had our first fight? It was because of jealousy.
You were jealous of my good friend, Nick Grimshaw. And I was jealous of Eleanor. Calder. Your wife.
"You're being stupid." Louis shouted from the living room. "No, I'm not. I just don't find the reason to hold her hand in public or touch her bum." Harry responded with a scoff. "" And I don't find the reason for you to hang out with Nick all the time." "We're just friends, its not like I'm holding onto his butt in public. Harry scoffed. You don't get it, do you Harry?" Louis said getting up from the living room's couch. He walked over to Harry. "I put up with all this shit, to protect you and you fucking repay me like this!?" Louis shouted in Harry's face. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He ran upstairs, his eyes pink and puffy. "Harry!" Louis called after him. He walked up the stairs pleading for Harry to open the bathroom door. "Harry, I'm sorry!" "Harry, please we can talk about this!" "Harry open the fucking door!"
*Scilence.*
"Don't make me bust down the door!" Louis yelled. "Harry you're getting me really fucking worried just open up!" Louis said crying from the outside.
*Cut.*
One for being a jealous idiot.
*Cut.*
Two for making Louis cry.
*Cut.*
And a final deep one for being a ungratful shit.
A painful scream from the bathroom.
"Opps."
The blade went to deep.
"Harry!" Louis cried from the outside. He pushed his body on the door until it was loose. He kicked the door with all his might until it collasps to the ground.
He saw his curly headed cheerful green eyed boy, sitting on the shower tile. A blade in his hand. 4 cuts on his arms.
Yes. I remember. You crying, me crying. I still have the scar of my deepest cut. It's hidden between my tattoo. "Things I can't."
A lot of people wondered why we kept getting matching tattoos.
A lot of people wondered why I had so many on my right arm.
"Thing's I Can't." Is under my right arm, with all of my tattoo's above it.
It represents thing's I can't do, or couldn't do.
"Thing's I Can." Is on my left arm.
It's the only tattoo there.
Since the only thing I can do is talk with the ink on my skin.
-Love, Harry. xoxo.
