For the First Time | n.h.

Chapter Twenty-Three

...We have so many good memories Niall. I don’t think I can mention them all in this one letter. I’m sure I’ve left hundreds of them out. Pretty much every day was great as long as I spent it with you. Before you went on tour we used to just lay around the apartment, happy in each other’s company. I remember one day we watched hours upon hours of Disney movies. I cried during The Lion King and I swear I saw you tear up too. We used to cuddle on the couch and sometimes just fall asleep there, even though our bed was only a few feet away. Amongst a thousand others, it’s those little things that I really love about you. Like the way you try to make me tea, even though you hate it and have no idea what ‘too much sugar’ means. There are thousands of little moments that I would like to mention, but in that case I’d be writing this letter for days and I’m quickly running out of time.

                So I’ll get to it then. I’m going to attempt to explain exactly what I tried to tell you tonight. You really didn’t get it the first time. I think the only thing I said that actually hit you was that I was leaving. None of my other words seemed to make a difference. So I guess I’ll start from when things started to go wrong...it wasn’t too long ago, just a couple months after you went on tour...

“Megan, what the hell? These are completely out of order, what have you been doing for the last two hours?” Tyler asked, staring at the records I had just organized with an appalled expression. Jesus, you’d think I murdered his cat with the look he had on his face.

                “What are you talking about?” I asked, frustration and anger clear in my voice. “I alphabetized them! What do want from me?!” Since I started working here just a few months ago, this had become a regular occurrence. Tyler was a nice guy. He was funny and really laidback...most of the time. When it came to these god damn records he always had something to bitch about.

                He took a deep breath like he was trying to control his anger. “What I want Megan is for you to organize them first by genre, alphabetize the genres in this section, and then alphabetize the records within their genre, alright?”

                I stared at him for a long minute before laughing. I was practically pissing myself by the time I realized he was still just standing there, watching me. “You’re insane, you know that right?” I questioned, shaking my head.

                Tyler shook his head before I caught a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I poked him in the stomach which finally got him to laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he surrendered, shooing me away. “I’ll finish this, you go work on till.”

                I grinned at him, “I think it’s for the best. God forbid I screw up again and put a record in the wrong genre.”

                He rolled his eyes, “Just get over there, will ya?”

                I did as he said, taking my usual place behind the counter. Even though I had been hired specifically to help organized and stock shelves, most of the time I ended up working the cash. Tyler was one of those people who, in spite of himself, thought his way was the only right way. That was only when it came to this store, however. Outside of work he was nothing but laidback and easygoing. He reminded me of Niall in that way, which is probably the reason we got along so well. He had become the only friend I had in Dublin. Once in a while we would hang out after work and find something to do around the city. It was nice to have a friend again, especially considering Niall wasn’t around now.

                I was terrified of him going off on tour. We would be apart for a long time without seeing each other, longer than we had ever experienced before. I didn’t want him to leave me...I didn’t want to be plagued by the empty feeling missing him would bring. It had only been a month and already I was so lonely in our apartment. Night time was even worse. Our bed was far too big to be sleeping in alone. It was made bearable only by the fact that he would be home soon to visit. The end of that week, actually.