Dancing with the Boys (Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter 31: Now We're Starting All Over Again

So sorry for the long wait! What with exams, and I think I lost interest in it for a while, but here it is!

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Chapter 31: Now We’re Starting All Over Again

Imagine if we were like the rain.

Born from up above, our entire life flash as we fall from the grey clouds, then we land with a splash on the ground. Or in a drain, the ocean, someone’s hair. We could land anywhere, really. But our life isn’t that long. No time for sorrow, or joy, no time for love.

I think now I’d like that. To have no time for love. No time to feel it. Sure, it was a great feeling when you were experiencing it, and your other partner felt the same. But when that love goes away… it’s like you’re dead.

At least on the inside. I was dead. I was empty. I wanted to stop feeling. Because if I did, I’d be free of this hollow ache inside me. All I could think of was him. Before I went to bed, I felt the pain stronger than ever, knowing that I wasn’t going to bed with him next to me, or him kissing me his goodnight.

He’d be the first thing on my mind when I woke up in the morning. And I’d feel a burst of pain as it rushed through my veins, reminding myself nothing had changed overnight. I’d go to eat, but all I could remember was the time he prepared my meals, or fed me when I was too weak to do it myself.

I was pathetic. I knew it too. I was one big ball of pathetic mess after I broke up with my boyfriend. That was the reason I was wallowing in my sadness for what, a month? It felt like a year. But I was in pieces. Because of a boy.

I sighed, staring at the railing from my seat on the fluffy couch. He first kissed me there. Very first time. It rained that night, too. I wanted to punch him.

Punch him for ruining everything in my life. I couldn’t look at a single place in my house without getting reminders from him. Because he was in every single one of those places. Even the dance studio. I’d go there because I knew I needed to pull myself out of my depression for two hours while I did my job and choreographed something.

But I’d remember the Toxic performance, very daring, that one. And I’d end up choreographing some sad, mopey dance. I reiterate, how pathetic. I did my interviews, my performances, my appearances. I went to signings and smiled happily for pictures with fans. But I felt so empty.

And I bet he was perfectly fine too. So it was a one sided relationship, apparently. He moved on. No doubt he laughed at me with his friends. While they all told stories about their past relationships at the bar having drinks.

“Okay, okay, I think the worst was this girl I dated about a month ago. We broke up and boy, she was a wreck! She was pathetic, couldn’t do anything, couldn’t even lift a finger. She was attached to me like a parasite, and the minute I left, I took her life force with her. Ha! Bet she’s still moping about now, crying and watching sappy movies.”

Then they’d all laugh. “Come on, tell us, who was she?”

“Alright, I’ll tell you. You know Cross Section?”

“Who doesn’t? But if you say it was one of those girls mate, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Well, I’m telling you the truth here, it was Lilah. Lilah Force. Yep, that very one. Why do you think she cancelled that last performance on X-Factor a while back? Girl’s a wreck mates, definitely not as strong as everyone thinks she is. Weak is more the word to describe her. Weak and pathetic.”

Then they’d all laugh again, and the green-eyed boy would laugh the hardest of them all, and take a long swig of his beer and flash one of his charming smiles to the bartender, who flirted with him in return.