Too Much

Chapter Twenty Five

Eleanor

It had been three weeks since One Direction started touring, and it had also been three weeks since I last saw Louis and I was already terribly missing him. He'd call and text me everytime, sometimes even skype me after shows if he wasn't knackered or if he had plenty of time but it wasn't the same. The screen didn't do justice to the beauty of his blue ocean eyes and his voice didn't sound as melodic as it is on person. I wouldn't feel his hand creeping on mine just because he feels like it and I wouldn't be able to play with his feathery hair. All I could do was read his messages, hear his voice or stare at his face through my laptop screen via video call -- seeing him so close but so far away. It wasn't the same as when he was by my side. The longing I had was making me grow sadder each passing day that he wasn't around.

To occupy myself, I would basically drown myslf in paperworks I needed to pass for my classes. It was something anyone wouldn't simply notice unless they asked but I was in college, but taking up my classes online. I'd only go to uni for exams or whenever I needed to. Studying was the only thing that distracts my mind from constantly thinking about Louis and how I missed him.

But it only took a while always, after I was done with everything and my mind would automatically drift off to him. Is he alright? Is he tired? Is he taking care of himself? Does he miss me just as much?

I didn't know I cared for him that much until he was already miles away. I guess that's what distance does, it makes you appreciate someone's presence through their absence. It makes you feel how much different it is when they're by your side and when they're on the other side of the world. Which made me wonder, did Louis miss me just as much or did he miss me more?

He said he loved me, after all. Is it a reason that doubles someone's longingness?

The thing was, and I've said it over and over again, I missed him. More than I think I should, and I didn't even love him yet. Or atleast I hadn't sorted out my feelings yet.

Do I?

I thought I had been inlove before. I believed I loved Harry that I let myself be hurt, just for him to love me back. I let myself be shattered, because I hoped he'd put the pieces back together. I endured pain, so much pain, just because I was hoping he'd return the favor of loving me.

But there was one thing I was forgetting.

I didn't actually know what love was.

I had never experienced what it was to love and to be loved. I had only seen it in movies and I'd only read it in novels but never really received any amount of this thing they say that makes the world go round. I was so caught up in my fantasy of it that when Harry gave me a little bit of attention, my hopes were suddenly set up, that maybe someone was willing to give the affection I never had. Then I "loved" him. And what came with it was the massive amount of hurt I got, which I basically took upon myself, that made me believe that pain is essential to love.

But then Louis came into the picture. He was there, taking care of me, giving me the affection I was expecting Harry to give me. But being the oblivious and naïve person that I was, I didn't really notice. Or maybe I did feel it, but I never minded. He secretly loved me, hoping I would notice it by myself but was never expecting anything back.

There wasn't a moment that I remembered that I was hurt in any sort or form when with Louis. Everything was carefree and only happy times. He was the only person that could make me smile even in my most miserable state. I ... cared for him. So much. It just needed a little nudge to spark but I was never hurt.

Maybe getting hurt is inevitable when you experience love. But love per se, isn't about the pain.

And maybe I never really loved Harry. I was inlove with the thought of being inlove.