Letters to Arabella

1st Letter

A/n: very quickly before the story begins I just want to thank Unwisest for making the cover for this book!! Ok carry on...

Blah...Blah...Blah.
I honestly don't know what to say. Writing is stupid.

My therapist suggested writing my feelings down as a way to express myself, but it's boring and stupid. Let's be real it's just plain useless.

You see, my mother has been worried about me lately. She thinks I'm depressed. So every other day she forces me into a room to talk to Dr. Hastings, a balding middle aged man that pretends to care about my problems.

Joke's on her. She thinks I spend hours talking to him about my feelings and shit when in reality, all I do is stare at his wrinkled face as he pretends to write notes.

At the end of every session he says, "Until next time, Mr. Styles." He always says that with his stupid boring voice and it drives me crazy. He knows I'm going to have to keep coming back to him and he's rubbing in my face! He's probably laughing at me right now to his rich colleagues. 

Therapy is a waste of money. I don't need it. People who refuse to mind their business put all kinds of nonsense into my mother's head just because I didn't cry over what happened. I've told people hundreds of times that nothing is wrong, but they won't believe me!

I'm fine.

I keep trying to tell them that I'm fine.
It didn't even affect me that bad. 
Sure, it hurt that you left, but it was your decision. You did this to yourself.

So no, I'm not upset that you're gone—mostly because I'm too upset that you were selfish enough to not even say goodbye.

I guess this just turned into a letter for you,  Arabella. So I'll leave it at this:

I loved you Arabella.

I'm sorry that wasn't enough for you.      

- Harry