Shame is a monster that can sneak up on you and envelope you in a matter of seconds. It takes over every single ounce of feeling that you have and turns it. You are no longer living your life; you're living a life of shame and guilt. A life that can continue until you die or, very rarely, it can be demolished with the right care.
In the moment, those who have this demon, this inner monster, stop trying. Relationships, friendships, and the most important things can all come crashing down with the snap of a finger. Even the strongest of people eventually cave in to this ghoul. Its power is strong and attacks the undeserving. It can beat you until you are no longer present and the only thing you solely focus on is what you could've done better.
My body tells me that guilt shouldn't be a feeling I have right now, but it is. It says I should be feeling upset or enraged more than anything else. I feel guilty for putting those who I care about in a position that they shouldn't have to be in. They shouldn't have to spend their time worrying about me or my problems when they have their own to deal with.
I feel guilty for getting involved in family affairs that weren't meant for me to get involved in. Despite the secrets they'd hidden from me, I felt guilty for imposing upon my aunt and uncle. This would've been so much easier if I'd just let everything go. If I had done something differently or been better about paying attention, would this still have happened?
Of course it would have. That's how my life goes. It's similar to a bee and a flower. The bee, aka me, has been searching for a flower after a thunderstorm. It'd search long and hard. Finally, it got one. It was sweet and had enough pollen to pollinate an entire field. The bee would get so happy and head towards the flower. In the corner of its eye, there would be a group of wasps going to the same flower. The little bee was buzzing along as fast as it could to beat the wasps. It got as far as touching the edge of the flower, getting that little bit of light before the wasps took it over.
Comparing my problems to a bee was the most positive thing I'd thought about since I arrived home. As soon as Harry dropped me off, my path was a straight shot to my room. Getting up this morning was the most energy-draining thing I had ever done. It was like there were a thousand pounds resting on my stomach.
Oh yeah, forgot to mention, to top it all off, this morning I woke up in a puddle of blood. No I wasn't shot for all of you who are uneducated. I got my period. Mine were irregular and showed up whenever they pleased. When they did make an appearance, it was a seven day trip to hell. If cramps were this bad now, they'd probably take me down tomorrow. Guess I will be staying home. That was the only thing I was looking forward to. Everything else was just another obstacle for the day.
I'd been sitting in my car for a total of twenty minutes when I heard a knock on my window. My head, which was leaning against said window, lifted and turned my eyes to see who dared bother me in my sulking time. I couldn't get too mad because it was my flower, figuratively speaking. Realistically, it was Harry, if you hadn't already guessed. I urged my muscles to form a tight-lipped smile. My hand reached to unlock the door. It popped with a quick clicking noise and allowed him into the passenger seat. My mood became even lower when I noticed his evident limp while walking in front of my car.
"Good morning angel," he leaned across the center console to press a kiss to my lips. Instead of turning my face towards him, I kept it stationary, facing the windshield. He pulled back seeming hurt or worried. I was too busy spacing out to notice much. His fingers came to my cheek and led it to face him. I pushed my cheek into his touch, yearning to find some type of positive emotion. Luckily, a spark of security ignited through my body. Nothing extreme, but just enough to rethink my reaction to him.
"Sorry, I still have a lot on my mind," I sighed and pressed a short kiss to his lips. His familiar smell of vanilla and cedar infiltrated my senses. Our foreheads rested against each other.
YOU ARE READING
1985 (h.s.)
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] After getting over his initial facade I felt as if I was getting to know the real Harry Styles. I learned the little things about him like how he likes his bread toasted golden brown or that he always has to eat his salads with a certain...
