What we become

23. Song to say goodbye

Another day, another magazine. Jess went out of her way to hide them from me these days. So much had changed in a year. Still, I managed to see the headline and the photo before Jess stepped in front of the magazine rack; 'Harry left heartbroken as Ella moves on'. The picture was of Jake and I standing on the beach. It was sunny and I was shielding the sun from my eyes, standing in nothing but a bikini, smiling up at Jake, who stood close by, fully dressed with a coffee in hand. A dramatic split in the page separated the photo of us to one of Harry. It looked dark and miserable where he was; echoed by his dark clothes and an unhappy expression troubling his beautiful face. His hair was longer than I had ever seen it and I wondered if he was doing alright. I pushed the thought away.

I remembered that moment with perfect clarity; I had been in the water all morning; my hair was still wet in the picture. Jake had been walking past, having coffee with a friend and had seen me. He had waved and come over to say hello. Our whole conversation had lasted a total of five minutes, and then he was gone, and I went back home. Funny how the paparazzi could spin things to make it look like I was the one who had come out on top of our breakup. And sad that they still followed me around when I just wanted to move on with my life.

The truth was, I had left the concert before that song had even finished playing; the song to say goodbye. I couldn't listen to The Temper Trap anymore. It brought back too many unpleasant memories, too much sadness. I went straight to the airport and boarded the next flight home. It had taken me days to get out of bed, to tell my parents what had happened. Mum held me close as I cried, dad stood helplessly by the door, unsure what to do or how to take my pain away.

I spent the first month losing all the weight I had put back on. I felt too sick to eat most days and I hardly left my room. I didn't even set foot on the beach for a month. Then I moved in with Jess; we rented an apartment at Mermaid Beach, directly across the road from the ocean. It was small, but it was ours. The exposed surf break a mere one hundred metres away and it lured me back in. I all but lived in the ocean for the next two months, breathing in the smell of the sand and the sunshine and the salt air. I applied for university and I was accepted; I would be studying dietetics in the new year. I still took photos, mostly of the landscape and the ocean. I could lose myself for hours in the surf and behind the lens. I still ran when I wanted to, but never to the extent where it was unhealthy or an obsession. I got balance back in my life.

"So," Jess said as we moved down the next aisle, away from the magazines. She was careful of the way spoke to me now, like she thought I was going to break. "I have tickets to the concert."

The concert. She meant their concert. Again, I thought, so much had changed in a year. Normally she would bounce up to me with excitement about scoring One Direction concert tickets.

I wasn't stupid. I knew the USA leg of the tour was over. I knew the exact dates they would be touching down in Australia, where they would be staying, what they would be doing. Their lives were planned out for them. 

She continued, without even taking a breath. "But they're right up the back in the seating area and you don't have to come I can find someone else to go with me and please don't hate me for wanting to go. But if you don't want me to go, I won't."

"It's ok. You can totally go, Jess. But I don't want to go with you." Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I wasn't being truthful. 

"Okay," she smiled and sighed a breath of relief. "Thanks. Cause I really do want to go."

"You just want to see Niall," I joked, and she laughed. I felt a pang of pain at the happy memories I fought so hard to push below the surface.

"Not a chance! Besides, like I said, the tickets are right up the back. He won't even know I'm there."

"Right," I nodded. For a guilty moment, I wished I could watch Harry without him knowing I was there. I wondered again how he was coping and if he was hurting as much as I was. But I pushed the thought away again.

"I was thinking of asking Courtney," she suggested.

"I'm sure she would love it. Now let's go get a coffee."

~

I had avoided anything to do with Harry for months. I didn't listen to his music anymore, I didn't watch his interviews or read magazine articles about him; especially not the ones about us. I had avoided all calls and texts from him. I had even blocked his number. I thought it would be better for us both that way; easier for us to both move on. Like we never existed. But we had existed, and I was intrinsically changed, right to my core, for having known him. For having loved him.

But that night, I found myself lying awake in bed, longing to see him again. Maybe I could go to the concert with Jess. Maybe he would never know I was there, and I could watch him, from a distance. It wouldn't be so horrible to watch him perform; the way I was always meant to, in the audience like everyone else.

Before I could stop myself, I found myself binge-watching interviews and fan-made videos on YouTube. I watched with a guilty desire to hear his voice, to see his smile.

Then one video really caught my attention. The interviewer was asking the boys what their favourite colour was. A simple, uninteresting question. But the answer held me captivated, making me blush with my favourite memories.

"Strawberry," Harry responded and it made me think of him, naked and wrapped in white sheets in a hotel room, singing an unfinished song to me.

"That's not a colour," the interviewer laughed.

"Okay then... gold." He answered and my jaw dropped.

It couldn't be.