The rose and the sunflower.
The girl with the golden eyes and the boy with a golden heart.
The girl that believed love was just a fairytale and the boy that believed fairytales are just stories waiting to come true.
'I used to think love was a point...
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It was the day. The day I finally decided to move into the house. In my mind, this day was going to be torturous and absolutely depressing.
It wasn't like that at all though. At least not the second half of it.
Without Emma I don't know how I would've got through this. And although they weren't actually there standing with me, Liam, Zayn, Louis, Niall and Harry helped me through it as well.
It only took all day. Yes, all day. And when I say all day, I mean from the ass crack of dawn to when the sun had long set.
I cried the first hour. Literally sobbing. It took me an hour to even bring myself to touch the keys. My mind was making it a lot harder for me than it all actually needed to be so I got even more frustrated with myself.
Luckily, Emma was more than patient with me. After all, I am the one who asked her to help me do this because I couldn't bring myself to do it alone. Not only that but moving everything over to the house would've probably taken me a whole week to do if I was by myself, between my hesitance and just the fact that I owned a ton of random shit.
I was more than grateful for everything Emma had helped me with and got me through those few months that I was anyone but myself, but I was subconsciously wishing it were someone else who were here to help me through this, in person at least.
Once the first hour had passed I finally picked up the keys. I had them in my hand, staring down at them as I contemplated actually doing this or going through with what I liked to call "operation run away to Northern Europe and change my whole identity". Stupid, I know.
Of course in my mind that was just a joke I made up to cope.
Mostly a joke.
Once I finally decided to move my fucking feet from in the middle of my kitchen floor, I made my way out and into the yard very slowly. It's like in my mind, the slower I went the more likely this would all just somehow disappear.
However, this didn't happen. Nothing disappeared.
The house was still there even after the ten minutes I spent walking across the yard and back to my apartment, pacing back and forth until I finally said fuck it and walked up to the door of what was called my aunt's house.
Something washed over me and told me to just do it. Just to get it over with because I knew that eventually I would have to enter this house again.
Memories.
Things, people, places, events.
All things that make up our memory.
My first memory of entering this house came back to me as I stuck the key into the lock and slowly turned it.
I was probably around age five. I remembered it was the first time we came to visit my aunt when she decided to move back to London. I was with my sister, Lily, and my mother. The boys had stayed behind at our own home in London but little five year old me didn't care because I got to see my aunt Heather again. My idol. My favourite person in the whole world.
