The Breakup + Harry Styles

03

[the reason why and goodbye]

-

"Please. I really just want to know what I did wrong that you don't want to be with me anymore. I thought we had something special. Why?" Harry said into the phone. This was the fiftieth try this month, and each time, she wouldn't tell him.

"Harry, please stop asking. I have my reasons, can't you just be good with that?"

"No, I can't. You know da.mn well I can't."

She sighed. "Look, you need to stop calling me. I thought we agreed that we were forgetting about each other. This isn't helping you."

"Bullsh.it! I never agreed to anything. I never even agreed when we broke up. Isn't that suppose to be a mutual decision? You never asked for my say in it."

"No, it's not a mutual thing. I'm moving on, and you need to too. I have my reasons that I have already told you I can't tell. I don't want to hurt you anymore. So please... please forget about me."

Harry slammed his fisted hand on the cold, glass table of his dining room and tightened his hold on his cell phone.

"Move on? How can I move on already? We've been together for two years. How do you expect me to forget about you in two months? That's something I can't do. And you know what, I'm trying. I'm trying so fucking hard to forget about you, but I can't. You're the only thing that keeps me awake at night because I can't get you out of my head. Every single thing reminds me of you. I miss you... so da.mn much. I miss holding you, and kissing your forehead when I hold you close to my chest. I miss your voice when you sing in the morning to wake me up. I miss the way you make me feel. I miss all of you. I want you back. I can't do this any longer."

No reply.

"How long are you going to pretend you don't miss me too?"

She sighed again, and this time, it's long and harsh. "I'm not pretending."

Ouch.

Harry felt tears trickling at the corners of his eyes, and they fell down his cheeks. He didn't wipe them away, not anymore, because he's tired of doing so.

He's tired of all the shi.t she's doing to him, even though, she was doing nothing. He was the one doing it to himself. He couldn't help it. He loved her too much; and he needed her to be able for his heart to beat the same away again. Without her, the corners of his lips haven't raised since the last time they were together as a couple.

In the past two months, his lips formed nothing but frowns that revealed his dead emotion.

"Please don't call again. I'm busy, and I can't have you calling me every other hour. You know I'm working. I hope you are too. I hope you're not killing yourself over me. And as long as you don't visit me, we won't have a reason to think about each other again. You'll forget me eventually. Just keep working hard, okay? I hope this is the last time you call. Again, I'm sorry. You probably hate me too much to forgive me now, but I am sorry. I really am."

"Won't have a reason?" He repeated.

"What?"

"There are a ton of reasons: Love... Us... Because I love you. Those are pretty good reasons to me."

"Harry, stop. I don't want to talk about this. I need to get back to work."

"Well, I want to talk about this." He retorted.

"This is the last time. Delete my number from your phone if you have to. We have nothing to do with each other anymore. I hope you find someone out there who will love you better than I did. Find someone who will treat you much, much better. I know there is someone out there, okay? So, again, I'm sorry... goodbye." She said. He didn't respond.

He wanted her to keep talking. He hadn't been hearing her voice a lot like usual. Hearing her talk felt too much like home.

His wish wasn't granted though, because in the next second, all he heard was the sound of beeping—telling him the other line was dead and gone.

-

(written: 2/21/14)