Styles, Harry Styles. (#Wattys2015)

Keeping Promises

Five years later...

I can't believe it. It's crazy how much things can change in the blink of an eye. Three years ago, I didn't think I'd be here. I mean, most girls move on after a break-up, right? Well, clearly not me.

Why am I here?  The thought remains in my mind, as I walk into the concert venue.

I'm here to see my ex-boyfriend perform. That's why. I tell myself.

Why do you want to see that? You've been broken, and yet you still want to walk over those broken pieces and hurt yourself even more. You haven't seen him in three years, and now you decide to go see him live? Stop. Walk away.

I can't. I can't. I can't walk away. As much as I want to.

A promise remains a promise. I can't break it, even if part of me is trying to convince myself to break the promise.

Here's the problem: Harry was a great boyfriend and I did love him and I want to believe that he did too, but if he really did love me, then why did he leave me three years ago? 

Three years ago. That's when things had changed.

Three years ago. That's when we were supposed to get married.

Three years. Gone. 

Years that I spent with him that I will never get back.

He may have left me, but I will never move on from him. I loved him and I still love him.

I mean, how could I possibly move on and just forget someone who gave me so much to remember? He gave me nothing but good memories, except for when he left, of course.

He always dreamed of being famous. He hoped that one day he'll be able to share his talents with the world and that day is here. That day is today.

I had promised him that I would be there when his dream became a reality. That's why I'm here. I tell myself once more.

My thoughts are interrupted by the security guard at the gate. They're finally letting us in. 

Did I mention that I am first in line? I must be crazy in love with him or I'm simply just crazy. I've been camping out here since last night, just to make sure I'm the first one who enters the venue. 

"May I see your ticket ma'am?" The security guard asks me and I show him my ticket. The sad part is that I came alone. You'd expect people to go to a concert with their friends or siblings or something, but in my case, I came alone. Why? Because I wasn't sure what to expect when I get here and I had convinced myself that I wasn't gonna come at all, but then it'd be a waste.

I got VIP tickets; front row seats, but I don't think I'll have the courage to go to the meet and greet. I mean, what if I breakdown when I come face-to-face with him or something? I'm afraid of how this concert will turn out, but I walk in the venue anyway.

I take a seat and start browsing through my phone, so as to avoid looking like a loner. Finally, a group of girls come sit next to me and the silence is broken by their screams and laughs. 

"Look behind the curtains!" One of the girls squeaked.

The others next to her started screaming.

"Harry! Harry!"

Why do they have to mention his name? There's other people in the band, you know.

My stomach starts to feel upset, and it feels as if I have butterflies in my stomach. I'm scared to look up. What if I see him?

It's not a big deal Julie. Stop it. He won't even recognize you. Maybe he doesn't even remember you. Plus, you purposely wore a bunch of makeup today, so that he doesn't recognize you in case he sees you. Oh and not to mention, this venue is huge, so obviously he won't see you, if there's like about five hundred people here. You'll be fine.

I'm able to avoid eye contact with anyone around and I'm also able to control my anxiety rush that is building inside of me. Phew.

I get a text saying that I've used 90% of my data and so, I decide to turn it off and get myself fit for the show, which is about to start any minute now. Well, I mean the soundcheck for the VIP guests and then later, the concert will start.

As soon as I get off my phone, I realize that all eyes are on me. Well, from the group of girls that I mentioned earlier and I don't really understand why.

"Um...do I know you?" Their stares is making me feel uncomfortable and I want to shout in their face, asking if they want a picture or something. But, they don't say anything.

"You're that girl, aren't you? The one who is always stalking them..How did you get here? Is it because of your father?" One of the girl asks and I look at them, utterly clueless.

"Uh...what girl?" I ask curiously, trying to not sound annoyed.

"That stalker girl, I forgot her name. Isn't your father a paparazzi and aren't you always meeting celebrities?"

"No." I say, flat out and I look straight up, so as to avoid any more conversations with people. That is enough talking for the day.

"Well, you look like her. Is she your cousin or something?"

Why do you care? I just told you that I am not her, whoever you're referring to, so why are you continuing the conversation?

"Yeah. Totally" I say in a sardonic tone, hoping that this time they will stop with the questions. I didn't come to an interview, I came to a concert. Just let me enjoy it.

As they start asking me some more questions, they are interrupted. It's soundcheck time.