Dear Niall,
June 20th
I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry.
You haven't called me, and it freaks me out. I know you know I wouldn't answer, I hate talking on the phone almost as much as I hate texting. But you always call me, and you always leave voicemails, even though you know I won't answer. But now you haven't even tried and I don't know what to do.
I tried going by your house three times yesterday and twice today already. Your car was in the driveway, I know you were home, why didn't you answer?
Why do you have to be like this, Niall? Why are you avoiding me? I know you walking in on Louis and I wasn't really something you wanted, and Louis and I didn't really like it that much either, but why are you ignoring me?
Are you mad at me? Nialler, please don't be mad, okay? I know you're really protective of me and I know you know I don't make friends that easily, so I know that what you saw came as a shock to you, but please just don't be mad at me, and don't be mad at Louis. I love him.
Talk to me, Niall. Call me. Come by my house, I don't know, I just need you. I need to make sure you're doing okay.
Love,
Elle
Dear Elle,
June 20
I can't do this.
I can't do any of this.
I just can't.
I can't talk, Elle. I've barely moved from my bed. I can hardly breath, all I can do is sleep and stare at the wall.
Oh, and I can cry. I can cry a lot, actually. I've cried more than I even realized was humanly possible and I'm not even done yet. This hurts, Elle. It hurts everywhere. Not just my feelings, no, it's more than that. There's a physical pain. A constant fist closed around my throat. Agony is ripping open my chest, despair is pounding on my head. Every muscle in my body aches for you, I need you.
And the worst part?
You don't seem to need me. Not one bit. Why would you even think twice about me when you've got that other guy, you know, the one that was in bed with you?
I just can't believe this.
Love,
Niall
