Dreams (Zarry)

Chapter 17

That night I went to bed with thoughts of Harry and our long conversation. I was happy that he had opened up to me about how he was doing. But I was also sad about the fact that he was miserable in his private life. There was a time when I wished that on him, and feeling the disappointment after he had told me that he didn't know how to go on, had me in an emotional turmoil. But thinking about everything he had told me and seeing him today, I realized that I just wanted him to be happy. If that was with or without me didn't actually matter. Of course, it would be wonderful if we could get back to a point where we were in love again - not that I ever stopped loving him - but if I needed to let him go for him to be happy, then I would do that.

He needed to find himself first though, in order to be happy. He needed to figure out what he wanted to do, what he wanted to tell the world and who he wanted to be with. Maybe he should take some time to be by himself. He needed to think, to feel, to just live and enjoy life. And maybe, just maybe I could help him, be there for him, if he wanted to, if he needed me. And I thought that probably was a very big if.

I regretted now not having had the courage to actually speak my mind earlier. But maybe I would still have the chance to do that. And all of a sudden I became aware of a deeply rooted feeling in my chest: I just wanted to see him happy. Even after everything that we went through, I just wanted to see him smile.

And with Harry's beautiful smile in my thoughts I drifted off to sleep and dreamed.

I hadn't called Harry back, for a year. I never managed to gather enough courage to just pick up the phone and call him. And I hadn't given him the chance to call me. I had changed phone numbers so many times, I couldn't even count it anymore. I would never know if he even tried. I would never know, unless I gave him a call to ask.

I had left the band a year ago. My first solo album had just been released and it seemed to be doing really well. Going through that process of producing my album and finally releasing it had my thoughts going all over the place constantly. I had worked through so many issues and it had split my heart open more than once. It wasn't unlikely that the night after a writing session I had cried myself to sleep, wondering what the hell I had been thinking. But the next day I did it all over again. And very often my thoughts had come back to my former band mates, though I was excluding Harry from that term. Harry was not a former band mate to me. He had been so much more than that.

With Niall, Liam and Louis there had been a big fallout on all sides. It had been quite a mess. And for a while I hadn't spoken to any of them. But little by little the contact with those three had picked up again. It wasn't regular contact, but we were on speaking terms which was good. I hated how everything was left when I had disappeared. Apart from Harry, the others had heard from my decision through management. That had been another cowardly move on my part.

Harry.

How many times had I thought of him? How many times had he been the reason I had cried myself to sleep? I felt so lost without him - without my rock.

I hadn't heard from him since our disastrous phone call - and trying to divert the blame from me then - I thought that if he really had wanted to talk he could have gotten my number from the others. But I hadn't called him either. I was too much of a coward to pick up the phone and call him. And the more time had passed the more I knew he wouldn't want to talk to me anyway.

One day, Liam, Niall and Louis convinced me to actually get together. We managed to all have some time in London, which I had thought virtually impossible considering our busy schedules, but we organized a get together at Louis' apartment.

I was very nervous when I arrived. I had seen one at a time here and there, but we had never gotten together like this, not since the band and I wondered what would happen and if we all could still be civil with each other. I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants before knocking on Louis' door.