Trapped

letter eight

chapter nine

dear harry,

the eighth reason has to be: isolation from my family.

reason eight is nothing to do with you. it was my own fault completely. there was nothing you could have done to prevent this from becoming another hurdle for us to fall over.

yes, my sister lived nearby to our flat, but it wasn't the same as seeing my mum's sunshine smile or listening to my dad's hearty laugh as i told him about some utterly embarrassing encounter i'd had with a stranger in Tescos.

i still miss them now. abel and i go back to see them sometimes. it's always nice to be at home again and just to sit in my childhood bedroom and to lie in my old bed with my worries left behind.

niall came with me last time i went up there. i don't know if he told you that's where he was going, but he did. this was a few weeks ago. my mum beamed when she'd seen him and hugged him like she used to hug you, which was uncomfortable. more uncomfortable for me than for niall because he didn't know, he just thinks she's a very friendly woman, which she is.

later on, that evening, when niall was showering, mum asked me if he was my new boyfriend. i told her no and that he was just a good friend. she looked at me like i was lying to her so i told her that i could never be anything more than a friend with niall because he was your friend, harry. she seemed to accept that.

niall and i left the next morning.

as i'm halfway through this letter, i realize that this is another instance of my ignorance. you would have been missing your family too. of course, you would have been. i'm stupid to think i was the only one missing family.

you even used to tell me how much you missed them.

we went up to see them once. it was nice, nicer than i expected. your mum was very sweet and treated me like i was part of the family. did she think i was going to be yours forever too?

my heart aches to think of what we could have had by now. it's been almost two years, harry, and im still so hung up on you. i just wish you'd reply so i could finally have some kind of closure to these letters, to you, to us.

but then i imagine the closure and i hate it. i like writing to you. it makes me feel like i still have you, even when you don't reply to a single word.

eight letters later, including this one, i have created a list of all the reason why so far:

- i was paranoid

- you cheated

- your jealousy

- you kept forgetting me

- you stopped being romantic

- you fell out of love with me

- ineffective communication

- isolation from family

looking back on the reasons why now that they're in a list, i realize that these letters are just me blaming you for everything. and there's a part of me that wants to continue doing that because honestly, it's easier to blame anyone but yourself, but that wouldn't be fair. it wouldn't be the reason why we broke up. it would be the reasons why it's your fault we broke up, and that's not what i set out to write.

originally i set out to write all the reasons, so i can assure you that the next letter you receive from me will not be blaming you.

i promise, harry.

love, marlee x