Charlie. (Larry Stylinson)

Letter To Charlie (Epilogue)

Dear Charlie,

I write this at the midnight hour of your one month existence. I'm not quite sure what prompted me to do so, but your small fits of tears has awaken me and I find myself unable to fall back asleep. You're range is immaculate and I say this out of humor; but nothing a bottle of warm formula couldn't remedy. Your dad is getting as much sleep as possible, under doctor's orders of course; and I want nothing but a sense of easiness for him, so I've taken the liberty of checking up on you every hour or so, while Lou rests. I hear you, you know; on the baby, voice monitor beside me. You're conjuring up incoherent words and babbling until your heart's content; and it makes me content as well. It has become the soundtrack to my life.

Since the age of fourteen, I've been on this journey to find out who I am and my contributions to the world around me. I've dealt with heartache and misunderstandings. I've dealt with loss and forgiving. I met someone by the name of Louis and I had never been more confused, defeated, and manipulated in ways that only love could cause; but no matter what, son, don't allow people to convince you that, that's the only side of love. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't cause bleeding. It doesn't make your heart stop even when it may feel as though it's going to collapse. It rejuvenates you. It makes you believe in a higher power because you'll never feel something quite like love before and it'll leave you wondering at what moment in your life did it sneak up on you. Allow it. Don't hold back.

Also, if I'm being quite honest with you, love is probably the only thing that'll bring you a sense of joy. We live in a cruel and crazy world, son. We live in a divided and controlled environment. We live at a time of hypocrisy and dishonest people. I have more than enough faith in you to know that you'll be one of the exceptional ones. You'll make a difference somewhere, somehow, all on your own. You'll grasp the world in the palm of your hands and shake some sense into everyone. You radiate happiness and internal beauty. It runs through your blood and settles on your bones. I can feel it. Also, if I'm being quite honest, Louis and I have a habit of gloating about how gifted you're going to be. So, it may sound as though I say all of this out of being your clingy father; but even if I were a stranger on the street, passing you by, know that my judgement would still be the same.

I'm twenty-four now, Charlie. I'm still young and I'm still learning, but I continue to learn from all perspectives; and I hope that one day I'll be able to see the world through your eyes. They're green, you know; like mine. Louis hates that I remind him everyday, thinks that it's something I just like to brag about, but he doesn't see what I see when I look into your eyes. He doesn't see the reflection the way I see it. I guess that's what makes him and I different, but in a way that completes us. He's beautiful, son. One day you'll be able to know Louis the way that I do. You may see him as a provider and nurturer, for now; but when you're old enough to understand, you'll see that he's capable of so much more. He has a lot of love to give. Even when I thought he had given it all to me, he still manages to conjure up more for the both of us; for this family we've built; for this home we share; for this life we strive in.

There may come times when you're at your lowest. There may come times when you feel unable to cope. There may come times when you feel trapped or have your back against the wall. There may be times when you feel the world is out to get you, that everyone doesn't understand you. In those times, keep the butterfly in mind. Keep in mind its freedom and its beauty. Keep in mind its oddity and inability to be tamed. Keep in mind of all that it symbolizes and remember that, no matter what, your wings remain. I hear you whimpering a little over the monitor. You're probably fussy and tired, or in need of a change. For now, you'll cry over the simple things, the things that won't mean much ten years from now. For now, you'll cry over spilt milk and crumbs. Later, you may face something far much more severe. But always remember to just breathe, Charlie.

In love with you and Lou, forever. - Papa Harry.