Fix you (Harry Styles)

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 59

HARRY’S POV

“ Let’s go to Paris. “ I said, my eyes were silently begging her to come with me.

I was ready. We were ready to get married, I was certain that we were, even though we were way too young and even though we’ve only been together for 7 months. I knew it. I knew that both of us were finally ready to get married and spend the rest of our lives together, through better and worse. Mercy and I were completely different, there was, almost, nothing whatsoever that made us feel so similar, other than our passion and love for philosophy.

She was the good girl, the girl who’s been having straight A’s, the girl who does everything to make her family proud, the girl who was trying to make everyone else around her happy, the girl who’s always been there for other people, she was picking them when they’re down, catching them when they fall, lifting their heads up high and have a better perspective of life, she was the girl who fought throughout all of the painful memories, she survived everything and refused to give up, she refused to surrender.

 Mercy was the perfect role model for everyone, she was, and still is my role model, my idol, the only person whom I’ve always looked up for. She was that good girl, the girl who’s never been fucking every guy she meets, the girl who would kill to protect the ones she loves, the good girl who’s often seen as weak because of her kindness, when in fact, her warm heart was one of the characteristics that made her strong. Yes, she was the strongest person I’ve ever known, others would always try to take advantage of her, they would try to make her fail, and they would try to weaken her, to break her. However, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her down, she would get her shit back together and show them that she was still strong and undefeatable. Never has she given up on life, on friendships, nor on love although she has been disappointed numerous times

Never has she spent a day without exposing her amazingly beautiful smile to the whole world. Others may see her as weak and fragile whenever they acknowledge the amount of times she’s been screwed over, and the times she kept trying over and over again, refusing to surrender to failure. I see it as strength, though. She was the nicest person I have ever met. However, her big heart led her to a lot of tragedies, she was trying so hard to make everyone else happy that she forgot to make herself happy, she drowned herself in an ocean of grief because she neglected herself and gave everything to everyone else.

Then there was me. I was the bad boy. I was the guy with the tattoos, the guy who got high and drunk, constantly. I was wasting my precious and limited time on useless and endless parties, sleeping with random girls. I wasted my time on planning on how to turn good girls into sluts; I wasted my time on turning good girls from happy to absolutely miserable by breaking their golden and naïve hearts. I was the man who hated his family; I was the man who was putting everyone around him down whenever he got bored. I was the boy who suffered from a horrid past, I was the man who gave up on life and surrendered ever since day one.

I was definitely not a role model to anyone, I wasn’t anyone’s idol. I was the bad guy, the guy who has never felt love, the guy who has never tried to protect his loved ones, and the guy who didn’t give a flying fuck about anything or anyone. I was the man who was often seen as tough, I was the man with the tattoos and muscles, the man with the rude attitude and scary behavior. I was the man who was physically strong, the man whom everyone considered as strong, and feared him. However, I was the weakest person I’ve ever met. Yes, I did break hearts. Yes, I did break jaws and other parts of people’s bodies. Yes, I broke furniture and other things. But, I was never truly strong. Inside, I was probably the weakest person.