Sincerely, yours. - A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter 1

Sincerely, Yours: 

A Harry Styles fan fiction

Chapter 1

I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here. There is no absolute resolution that would come from talking about something I could barely get out without choking on my own words. I stare at the blank faces in front of me. They all look to me, with the same numbing expression, that force me to want to curl up and hide. I lick my dry lips, fighting to stay sane for the time being. I don’t understand why I have been forced to attend therapy, after I so clearly messed up the private sessions on purpose. Group sessions are about a million times worse. We all sit in one room, staring at each other, begging the clock to tick faster. Each one of us dreads the experience. 

I have cried so much in the past month, probably more than I ever have. Everyone is so worried, but it seems to become less and less abnormal each day. 

“Mr. Styles, will you please tell us all how you’re feeling? We want to try and understand.” the woman who sits directly in front of me, begins. 

I stare at her, probably with the same dead expression as everyone else is wearing. My hands are clasped in my lap and my mouth feels numb, like I have just spent hours at the dentist. 

“Please go on,” she encourages me. 

I sit there for a moment. I had never really thought of what I was feeling before. Betrayed? Empty? I try to think of a word that describes the feeling, but come to nothing. There isn’t a word. It's only pain. But some unreal pain that I can’t bare; that eats me up inside and burns holes in my soul. One that affects every aspect of my body and frequently causes many tears. A pain that fills me from head to toe and engrosses me each second of the day. But not even that describes what I feel. Nothing does. How could I be expected to form some superficial sentence about my loss in a matter of seconds, then simply share it with a group of strangers? Do they think we don’t know the difference between utterly ridiculous and something reasonable? We're broken not stupid.

She gets the person beside me to lightly nudge me. 

I shake my head. I can feel all of the eyes landing one by one, on me, waiting for me to explain myself. But they don’t understand, there is no possible way to explain myself.

“Come on, do you feel hurt or confused, or maybe…”

“Maybe angered?” someone from the crowd adds in.

"Or depressed!" another suggestion.

“Yes, what is it? We would all love to help you Harry. We understand this may hurt. But it is only part of the healing process, I’ve explained this to you, remember?”

I stand up abruptly. “You don’t know how this feels. I don’t know! There are no words to describe this, alright. I…I just want it all to stop. I want to hold her again, and twirl my fingers in her hair, and tell her I‘ll stay with her forever.” and all of a sudden I am a crumpled, weeping mess, crouching on the linoleum tiling. “I…I just wish…” I stop, cupping my clammy hands over my face, wishing the 20 pairs of eyes would disappear. There is no point in being here. Counseling and therapy isn’t what I need. What I need is her. But since that is completely out of the question, then nothing would make this pain subside. 

“Harry?” I feel her warm, shaky hand on my back. 

I don’t say anything because frankly, I do not know what to say in the first place. 

She repeats my name again, and this time I look up to her. 

“It’s alright, you‘ll be fine.” and that’s when I feel my cheeks grow hot and I slap her. I can’t take it anymore. Why was she lying to me? Why was she telling me it's 'alright' when it clearly is everything but that? I won’t be fine. She knows I will never be fine; I know that; everyone knows that. There is no way to recover from this type of thing. Who's she kidding?