25 Letters [h.s]

Letter 3

The next morning was glum, the gray skies warning us of a thunder storm, warning us to stay inside. I didn't care about warnings or red flags, I enjoyed this weather. The sky understood how I feel like on these days, not many people understand. It didn't offer me sympathy or shallow promises that everything would be okay tomorrow, just somewhere to escape to.

I dug through the infamouse box, and grabbed the third envelope. I noticed Harry drew a heart after his name, it was messy and it was probably done subconsiously. It made me smile. Afterwards, I headed out. Informing my mom I needed fresh air before leaving. She was happy I wanted to do something other than for be alone, but what I wanted to do was be alone outside.

I drove out to the city, the letter burning a hole in the passenger seat. I forced my eyes to stay on the rode rather than wander off to my right side, just to look at his handwritting. Just waiting for his secrets. I found my way to the parking garage and stuffed the letter into my bag. I knew exactly where I was going.

My legs found it's way to the 24 hour coffee shop right next to the club I had met Harry at. We both decided we didn't like clubs, that's the first thing he noticed about me. Not my dress or my boobs, he noticed I wasn't having fun. We retreated to this coffee shop, he called a cab to take us home from there.

I pulled open the door and ordered exactly what I ordered that first day, and took a seat at the table for two in the back, the chair across from me once held Harry.

The bruista gave me my drink, the cafe was completley empty beside me and her. I found the letter in my bag and holding my breath, I carefully opened it. There were droplets of water were pounding on the glass window, begging for attention.

Dear Anastasia,

I feel like an explanation is over due, you need to know. The only thing I will probably fear until my last day is that you blaming my actions on yourself. I don't want you to do that, Ana, please know you are the only good thing left in me, you are the only thing keeping me alive.

Right now, it's three in the morning. I'm sitting at my and you're in deep slumber on my bed. I can barley see you in the dim light but I want to. I want to look at you until the skies go dark and there's no more light left for me to spend on you.

But I need to tell you, and every story has a start. Here's mine:

It started in middle school. I don't know why, but I was a great target for almost anyone. I enjoyed being myself, but nobody cared what I enjoyed. They saw me as an outcast, someone different, because I cared more about comics than real life. That I'd find a way to sneak in a batman reference to the class.

I know it sounds pretty lame, but it got pretty bad. People threw cigarette butts at me, setting my clothes on fire. You asked me what the marks on my torso once, I told you don't worry about it. They were burn marks from when I was 10.

Maybe it goes without me saying, but I didn't have many friends. My best friend has always been my mom. She didn't care I talked about superheroes or if I drew bad sketches of my favorite ones on the dinner table. She told me the superheroes were interesting and the sketches were beautiful and that she loved me.

I fell in love in high school. I don't think I was in love with her, more so the idea of being with her. The idea of holding her hand and talking about the stars, or singing my favorite songs to her. I know I never could, she was awfully boring, but I wanted to be loved. I didn't even know that I wanted love but seeing her, seeing April, made me fall in love with love.

I asked her to homecoming. She said no. April was really pretty and she told me she was going with the prettiest guy in school. Later I gave her a mix tape filled with Coldplay and Vance Joy. She snapped the cd in half and told me to go away. That's the day I stopped believing that true love exists, but we both know I started believing in fire signs and aliens and in true love again.

Everything started getting better in college, nobody knew my past. I stayed quite but went to parties and had friends that weren't too bad.

Then I met you and my whole entire life changed. I woke up everyday with the thought of your smile fresh in my mind. I memorized the lyrics to your old favorite songs and watched every movie you liked, finding a piece of you in everything I did. We were friends for a while before I asked you out, and everyday we were friends, I'd find a way to make you mine. Take you out to brunch a little early from work because I knew brunch was always your favorite meal. Play Monopoly with you almost every Sunday and I'd give you 500$ instead of 200$ every time you passed go because you spent all your money on properties. Or whenever we're out in New York City together, I'd buy you a post card or an 'I Heart NYC' mug at every touristy shop we passed, even though you've lived in the city for four years.

Then finally you let me label you mine and you had my heart. I was happier than ever. It took me a while before I realized you made me a happier person. Without you I was boring and liked normality. Without you I was cold and had a black heart. I drank my coffee black and wouldn't pay attention to things you do; old ladies knitting on the subway or love.

After being with you for about two years, as you know, my mother died. She was the best women to ever live. She was my super hero when I was in middle school, if I knew it or not. She was my best friend, she was someone to talk to, she was someone who didn't judge me for anything and she was gone. After being alive for about twenty two years, I've learned life isn't fair, but this wasn't fair.

Why was she chosen to leave? She did nothing but good, loved everyone unrequitently. She helped out in soup kitchens on Thanksgiving and gave food out to the homeless on Christmas. She went to Church every Sunday, even when she was sick.

My Mom was dead. It killed me, I lost my mind. You were right there next to me when I did. I spent a lot of time alone in my head and I discovered that without you in me, I was cold and hateful and more than ever at that point. Without you, I didn't care about anything. The world. Myself. Nobody mattered to me, other than for you.

It was as if it was middle school all over again. It was like falling in love with someone who had no care for you. It was like never meeting you. I couldn't live with myself, I don't know who I would be without you.

I also discovered that after pondering the subject of my life, I was a burden on you. Maybe I wasn't, but that's the only reason I could make up that you haven't left such a lost cause like me. I was a complete mess and after the pain of my mother's death passed, I was left with this taste in my mouth, this reoccuring thought that I was worthless. That I was nothing that I was unimportant. Soon the only light I found in my days was when I was with you. Other than for that I was miserable.

I was already dying. I know that changes nothing at all, but every letter I'm writing is a letter closer to when I could leave. I'm not happy. I don't want to be happy, I see no point. I know you won't, but I truley do hope you understand, Anastasia, I hope you understand I don't deserve to be next to you. And I'm so so so sorry.

Love, Harry Styles

The rain hasn't taken a break from pouring down, but I left. My eyes were already filled with salt water, I didn't want to let anyone see me. I speed walked into my car, letting the rain shower me. Why was I emotional? I promised myself I wouldn't let anything to get to me. I got into the car and I took a breathe. My head was going over the phrases Harry left me as I leaned my head against the steering wheele, taking everything in with my eyes closed. The smell of rain was always my favorite, but I couldn't find one good thing about the universe right now.