Sweet Sadistic Love (Larry Stylinson)

Certainty

HARRY'S P.O.V

                                                                                                                                                         August 27th, 2010

Dear Journal,

The last few days have been amazing, Louis, the lot, and me have been getting along immensely. Its not like we didn't get along before, it's just that we now know way more about eachother than I could have ever imagined to know about these boys in such a short time frame. A month and a half. Alot has happened in this short time; dreams have flourished, secrets have been shared, lives have been made, and most importantly a crush has found its way into my withered away heart. Louis Tomlinson, that's the one who holds my heart right now. Its not love, no, nothing of that sort. Well not yet anyways, I fear that I will fall harder as the days go by, but I'm not so sure; then again, I'm never so sure about anything really.

Throughout most of my life I can honestly say that I have never been certain or sure about anything; life, my voice, myself, nothing. I can honestly say that I haven't been sure about anything for many, many years. Too much pain and confusion to comprehend into thought and certainty. When I auditioned for X-Factor I wasn't even sure about it, even with Louis' warm, sweet smile that silently cheered me on. I still had my doubts and the feeling of uncertainty in my body, mind, heart, and soul.

I feel as if nothing is certain, the future, the present, and  even the past! None of it is certain, the future is unknown, the present happens too fast to ponder, and the past is just a guess. I can only be certain about the future if I were to be God, and the present only feels certain if I'm living it right; which clearly I haven't. And the past, the past is never certain. It will always change my views on something and the way I feel; as I get older, the past slowly withers away and changes. It doesn't change in the sense of becoming something completely different, but in the sense of view.

My views and feelings have changed multiple times about the past, I feel sad about one moment, then completely ecstatic about the same moment months later. I guess my feelings are bipolar in a way, or I'm just bipolar. I'm not sure, oh well.

Can I tell you about old memories? Like childhood ones? Wait, ofcourse I can, you're a journal for me to write in. Wow, I'm obviously too tired to function. Please do ignore my random stupidity.

Okay, back to the point.

This memory is relevant to the point I'm trying to make, so bear with me here. I'm not the best at explaining things, but I will try.

It was summer time, and I was about seven years old. Me and Gemma were on the beach playing around in the brisk, cool waves that washed up to the shore; the sun was high and the sand was warm. My mum, Gemma, and I went on a vacation to Jamica; Mum had a job to do there for a few weeks, so she took Gemma and me along so there wouldn't be any troubles at home. I was starting to wade into the deeper parts of the sea, my head barely above the water, curls floating, and arms and legs flailing around to stay above the water line. I tried to stay above, thinking I was a "big boy" , I refused to call out for help. This moment was quite ironic actually putting into consideration that I was, and still am, a mama's boy. I kept flailing and putting immense effort into staying above the sea, my body began to grow weary and weak, I struggled to stay up and I finally called for help. I yelled out "Gem-Gemma! Ge-Gemma! hel-help me!" while choking on water in-between syllables in the words. I was in both physical and mental pain thinking that I wouldn't live to see Gemma one last time; one last time before I sunk beneath the warm blanket of water that embraced me in its fragile, yet strong arms. Gemma's voice was all I could hear and remember at this moment in time, her voice sounded strained and breathless because she blew her lungs out trying to get to me. I remembered every word she had whispered into my ear that day, I remember the way she held my hand to reassure me like a big sister should. She is possibly the best big sister I could've asked for.

I now look back on this day with both happiness and sadness; happiness because I was blessed with a sister who cares immensely about me and she saved my life, sadness because I went through tough times as on Junior High and High School, times where I felt better off dead. I used to wish Gemma wouldn't have saved me that day, but then I realize that she did something extravagant and saved my life, she saved something beautiful. She has saved me multiple times and I couldn't think her enough for it.

I know I said I would write the best days of my life in here, but I have wandered far from that. I write to escape reality and to escape my mind. I like pouring my inner most thoughts out to you, it relieves me. I should have done this when I was at my worst, maybe I would be an over all happy person. Yes, I am happy, but sometimes my mind finds its way to the wretched past that I wish would die away just like trees and flowers that surround this earth. But, saddly, the past never dies away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The past is here to stay

Never to die away

The past is here inside

Never to run nor hide

              H.S.

Goodbye for now.

Love,

Harry

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

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