Mosaic

Harry Styles, Chapter 4

Harry Styles, Chapter 4

     I woke up from my sleep and I was laying on the couch in the same clothes as yesterday; plain, white tee shirt, black jacket, and black jeans. My jacket sleeves were raised and you could see my cuts plain as day, the first thought that rang through my head was Louis. I remembered last night: the breakfast, the park, the coffee shop, the make-out session that might have led to something else until I ruined everything, the crying... I made my Louis cry.

     I moved from the couch and up the stairs, I walked silently into the bedroom just in case Louis was still sleeping; he was. I went to our closet and picked out a black tee-shirt and a plaid red long-sleeved shirt with some dark jeans, just before I reached the bathroom door I heard Louis say, "Please promise me you won't cut." I turned to look at him; he was sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his right eye. I nodded and whispered, "I promise." And with that, I went into the bathroom.

     I stripped myself of my clothes and set them in the hamper, I turned on the water to the shower and waited for it to warm. While I waited, I search for my razors; no, I wasn't going to cut, I was making sure Louis didn't find them. I saw that they were still there, but they were placed in a different place; Louis had found them but left them alone. Did Louis really trust me enough to still have them? I simply shut the cabinet door and got into the shower. I washed my body and hair then rinsed off the suds. I turned off the water, then dried off with a towel. I slipped into my clothing and walked out of the bathroom, Louis was no longer in bed, so I assumed he must be downstairs.

     I walked into the kitchen and I saw Louis with waffles sat on a plate, "I made waffles." I smiled at him, "Aren't you going to eat?" I asked. He nodded and responded, "Ate while you were in the shower." I nodded and stuck a piece of waffle in my mouth. "You know we're going to have to talk about it right?" I looked up from my plate then nodded slowly, ashamed and feeling remorseful. He sighed, "Harry, why'd you do it?" "What do you think?" I asked. "I don't know. Harry, you are so freaking beautiful. A person like you shouldn't be hating themselves or hurting themselves." He says. "Well guess what, Louis, not everyone sees what you see." I spat. "You shouldn't be doing this to yourself though. You're just slowly killing yourself and I don't want to wake up one day to you hanging in the bedroom." He screamed. "Maybe I want that to happen, Louis. Did you ever think about how I feel about my life? I know what I'm doing to my body. I know I am hurting myself more, but that's the thing, I don't care anymore. I want this to end." I raised my voice to him, getting louder with every word. "Harry," Louis said in a small voice, "please stop." "Louis, I'm sorry, but I'm not like everyone else. I'm not perfect, I don't have the perfect hair, I don't have a clear face, I don't have the perfect body; I'm just Harry and I don't like being myself. I'm sorry, but I'm just not the same as everyone else." I say. Louis closed his eyes for a second, squinting them once then opening them. "Fine." He says. "Harry, I just hope you know that the reason why I love you is that you aren't perfect and that to me you're the most beautiful human being alive." He walked out of the room and walked outside with the keys and drove off. He left me alone; the one thing I dreaded the most.

     I couldn't finish the waffles, so I threw them out. I walked upstairs and got on my laptop, I started to look at some recovery websites; I'm going to try, for Louis. The websites gave some tips for when you have an urge to self-harm to wait ten minutes, if you wait that long then you can go ten minutes times two. I could carry a journal around and write down the last time I went through something that made me feel the urge to harm myself but didn't and write down what I did differently. I could list ten different ways to deal with the triggers. I could write down some of the good things I think about myself, I could also write about why recovery is the best option. I really hope that'll work, I want to be better, for Louis.

     I walked to the store down the street and bought a notebook, it was a forest green color, I also bought some pens that were different colors. On one of the websites, it said to color coordinate with different shades of pens in the journal: black pen equals suicidal; blue pen equals sad; red pen equals triggered; pink pen equals loved; purple pen equals mixed emotions; green pen equals happy. "That'll be $6.99 please." said the red-haired cashier. I pulled out the cash from my jeans, "Thank you, and have a splendid day." I smiled and replied, "You too."

     Once I got home, I saw that Louis still wasn't home. I sighed, does he even love me anymore? Is he going to leave me? My anxieties were building up, but I started to count to ten slowly, then I was fine. I walked into our bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp, I grabbed my purple pen and wrote at the top of the page, 'Ways to Deal with Triggers." I switched to my blue pen then I put a bullet point and wrote, 'Count to ten, if that doesn't work, count to ten again." I'll add more when I get triggered again and I'll use a different method.

     Louis still hasn't come back yet and I'm getting worried, is he alright? I called up Zayn; "Hello?" I heard him say. "Hey, have you seen Lou today?" I asked desperately. "No. No, why? What happened?" I could hear him shaking his head. "We got into a fight, he found out about... it..." I said silently. "Oh.." I hear him say, "What'd he tell you?" "He asked why and I gave him an answer. He left without saying goodbye..." I responded. "Harry, have you done the thing since he left?" Zayn mumbles into the phone. "No. Zayn, I'm going to try to get better. I'm trying to quit." I say. "I'm proud of you, I'm just sad it had to happen in such a crappy situation." "Me too, Zayn, me too," I respond.