Harry Styles Imagines/Blurbs

Sometimes It Still Hurts // Epilogue

After many lovely comments and requests for another part to this story, I'm putting this out there. I hope this helps you find closure in Harry's story, because even though life can be a bit confusing sometimes, I think he did too. Much love.

"Harry!"

My tongue caught in my throat as I turned and saw her smiling face looking back at me. She looked happy, healthy. It made me smile too.

"How is she?"

"She's... she's good. They both are," I replied.

Her mouth opened and her lips turned up. "A baby?"

"3 years old."

She gently cackled. "Harry, that's wonderful!" She breathed in deeply and let out a big breath. "Wow. I'm sure you're a great dad."

It really meant something to hear that from her because she... she'd really known me. And she was the kind of person that, in love with or not, you wanted the affirmation and approval of. At least, I did. Maybe that was because I had been in love with her, but nonetheless, it made me just a little bit less freaked out about having the life of another human being in my hands, small as that human being was.

"How are you?" I asked.

"I'm good, yeah, I'm good. Things are good," she nodded, maybe a little too quickly. I didn't want it to, but it hurt my heart a little bit that she seemed to be keeping up appearances for me.

"Are you..." I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh no. No," she shook her head, laughing to herself briefly. "Didn't work out with-- well, I guess you wouldn't know him, huh," she said more to herself than me. I tried to smile encouragingly, but I think it turned out to be more of a grimace.

"Well anyway, no. Not... not yet," she attempted a smile.

I tried to keep my lips from pursing and my brows from furrowing, because I shouldn't have still been personally sad about that. But it was hard in the moment. Saying, "I'm sorry," didn't seem altogether appropriate either. We'd shared too much, known each other too well. Saying a simple sorry would have made it feel too impersonal... and maybe I should have just come out with it for that very reason, but I couldn't.

"I'm... not really sure what to say," I mumbled honestly. I knew she could tell I was stumped by my own emotions, by the awkward situation. I missed things not being awkward with her. I think she did too.

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm fine," she tried to play, but that hurt too. She was doing that thing again. The wall thing. It was for the best, but I still didn't like it.

"I know you are," I nodded back, putting another brick on my own.

She breathed in quickly, signaling the end of our exchange. "Well, it's good to see you, Harry. It really is," she smiled, already moving to leave. I didn't like that behind her warm smile was a desperation for escape. I could tell that it was still hard. I felt the same way, but at least I had someone to go home to.

"Yeah, yeah, good to see you too. Take care of yourself," I said simply, but when she glanced back over her shoulder, I could tell she knew I meant it.

It may seem like a random meeting, something I probably shouldn't still remember, but I do. It was the last time that I said, "Take care yourself," and part of me still wished I was the one who could, who should. It was the last time that her eyes told me more than her mouth, the last time I chewed a hole in my bottom lip as she talked, the last time I felt there were weights on my lungs when she walked away.

I'm not really a love expert, so I don't know exactly why that was, but I suppose it had a lot to do with how much time had passed and just how much we had changed as people. It wasn't like one time we were in love and the next time we weren't. It was a slow process. But that memory was the last time I can recall there being that undeniable spark-- as faded and long-repressed as it was. The next time we saw each other, so much had changed and we were enough different that, well... everything was fine. And that was good.

I used to like to tell myself that still having feelings for her-- as big or small or surprising as they were sometimes-- was what made me human. But ultimately it wasn't right. We weren't meant to be together, and that's okay.

People often think it's a sad story, but it's not. It's life. And sometimes life is hard, but it's not always sad. We realized fairly early on that we just weren't right for each other, and I'm glad we did or else life would have been a lot more sad. It took me a while to learn it, but now I know that just because two people are great doesn't mean they're great together. Just because things feel good in the moment doesn't mean it's the best decision in the long run. And it might not make complete sense, it might not be totally black and white, you might not ever get a blatant reason that you can point to and say, "This is it. This is why." But it's okay to realize that these things still happen, and that you can be okay even when it does. Most of all, it's okay to let people go. Even when it's hard. Because sometimes you'll never really be okay until you do.

So I did. I let her go. And despite all those years of love and longing and even confusion, I'm finally okay again. I hope she is too.