CHAPTER TWO- Stupid, crazy, messed up little love life.
This has to be déjà vu. Jamming all my belongings into a suitcase again. Leaving somewhere, packing everything up, again. By choice? Nope. I didn’t get any say in this. I was told what my temporary job was going to be, not asked, told.
It wasn’t exactly like it was an easy situation either. Maybe if it had been with some other band that I didn’t live with for over six months, become best friends with and fell in love with a certain Irish member this whole situation would just be slightly easier. But the reality was that it was this band and all the memories and past that came with it and I was going to have to suck it all up and pretend that nothing ever happened between me and Niall and that I’m still not hopelessly in love with him. It’s not going to be easy, nobody said anything to do with Niall was going to be easy, but I guess maybe my acting skills have got better since the whole break up with Niall. I can’t decide whether this is a good thing or not, and not to be honest I never really do know anymore.
I exhaled heavily as I curled my fingers around the railings of my balcony. I guess maybe I was going to miss not spending my nights sitting out here watching the city lights and occasionally explode into fireworks, or sirens, or fights, or maybe it was just a really pretty night. Sitting out here every night I had seen it all, what NYC was like at night. It was amazing, to say the least. New York City, it is something special but I’ll never forget London and where I came from. I’ve adapted and changed in the past year since moving here and I could almost pass for a New Yorker now, minus my accent, I always miss London though, every day. I know how things roll and I know the definite do’s and don’ts of New York. It’s go hard or go home. Party like there’s no tomorrow and get drunk off your head. The you only live once attitude. Maybe that was what I always needed, something big, something bright and completely new to distract me from the mess I’ve made of my life. But really, even when life’s so good in a place like this I realise that I’d do anything to have my old life back. All the stress, all the pressure and every single burden it was ridden with, it was my life. My stupid, crazy, messed up little love life that I’d still be proud to call mine.
I shook my head biting my lip as I looked out over the city. What have I done with my life? What have I achieved? What do you really say when someone asks you that? What I’ve done with my life this past year since leaving Niall, it’s what someone would probably describe as ‘lucky’, ‘smart’ or just bloody organised but really. Under all the money I’ve made and the tears I’ve shed, the coffee’s I’ve drank and the weight I’ve lost. The appearance alterations I’ve made and the lonely nights sat on my balcony drinking coffee and thinking about Niall. I can’t say I’ve achieved a lot. It’s not like I under-achieved, I done a lot more than I ever expected myself to. The amount of money I’ve made is incredible and some people I’ve met and memories I’ve made, they’re pretty incredible too. But when you think back, look at what things used to be, was everything I lost and gave up to come here really worth it? Honestly? No. Technically? It’s supposed to be.
When you’ve made such a mess of your life and ended up pushing away the people that mean the most to you like me it’s really not easy to have confidence. If it couldn’t be any lower before I moved here, it’s hit rock bottom now. I don’t even want to think about my eating issues. It’s not possible for me to have an eating dis-order. Not again. No. Maybe I never did fully recover, I just thought I had. It’s not like I even want to investigate further. Right now, it is what it is and it’s my whole life now. However much I don’t want it to be.
Maybe I’ve become kind of sad being so lonely here. It wasn’t like I didn’t have friends, I did. I just have never felt so empty without Niall, never felt so weak and lonely while knowing I don’t have him anymore. It’s not like I don’t still cry every night. Sitting on my balcony with a cold mug of coffee in-between my knees as I silently weep letting the tears fall down onto his hoodie that I still wear. I sit and I look at all the other flats and apartments with lights still on at three o’ clock in the morning and I wonder, what’s their reason for being up at this time too? The same as me? Doubt it. Kid to look after? Phone call to make? Or maybe like me they just can’t sleep without that one person by their side. Whatever the reason is, I’m not alone in my sleeping habits which are almost zero. Caffeine is my drug, concealing my absence of sleep. Maybe I’ve kind of been scared of sleeping now, after several of these freaky spiritual dreams I never wanted to sleep again fearing that I’d dream of these things again, it was scary.
YOU ARE READING
Second Snapshot (Picture This Sequel: Niall Horan)
Fanfiction-COMPLETED -BK 3 IN PROGRESS- Business. It's all about business now. Nobody should give a single damn about love or how it does and doesn’t affect things. But Ashley does. After almost a year of absolutely nothing exchanged between her and Niall she...
