Words ↬h.s.

Chapter 9

June 5, 2014

Hello journal it's me your old pal. There's been a lot happen to me since we talked last. I was serious about getting help the last time I wrote, so I went out and quit my job moved from London to New York and am going to a widowers support group. The group had proven to be one of my best ideas, I've met new people including a fellow named Liam who has quickly become one of my dearest friends. He lost his wife about 5 years ago so he helps me when I have a 'bad day', he knows where I'm coming from I guess. Liam actually took over the group after it helped him so much. He helped me get on my feet again. He's the reason I'm where I am today. I manage the Whitney Museum of Art on Madison Avenue-

I picked up my phone typing in the passcode instinctively. I googled the museum, and found the phone number calling it before I could think twice. With every ring my heart rate increases.

"Hello and thank you for calling the Whitney Museum of Art, how may I help you?" the woman answered the phone cheerily.

"Yes hi, I was wondering if you could help me find one of your employees." I asked in a high pitched voice, she sighed almost inaudible.

"What's the name?" she asked seeming a little annoyed.

"Oh here's the catch I only have a first name." I admitted.

She sighed loud enough to where I assumed she meant me to hear.

"Well I'm sorry ma'am but I can't give you any information unless you have the full name and are family." She said with a rehearsed politeness.

"But all I need you to do is check and gi-"

"No ma'am we are not allowed to expose the information unless you are related." She interrupted.

"Fine." I exhaled.

"Have a good day, ma'am." she I hung up throwing the phone beside me.

All she had to do was just tell me if a Harry worked there. She didn't even let me tell her the name. Some people are just not very kind. Oh great now I sound like an 8 year old.

I scanned back over the journal entry finding my place.

-I love New York, I really do. I've made a new home here, I think there's a chance I'll be alright after a while, maybe I can move on. Maybe. Liam has two children Leah and Miah, both bouncing bright blondes. I sometimes go with them, wherever they choose to go. But one day I hadn't been going to the group that long, the girls decided they wanted to go to the park and we went but one point Liam's youngest, Miah, came over and grabbed his leg while we were standing there watching them play, and she was just hugging him (well his leg) and I almost broke inside and I have no idea why. Maybe the way she looked, like no one could harm her in that state or the way Liam looked down at her mumbling something to her about her being his princess. I wanted to faint. I wanted to run. I wanted to disappear. But there wasn't an escape all the pain, the hurt, the utter torture, came rushing back. I shouldn't be bringing this back up but my counselor at group thinks it's best for me to get everything out of my system and clear my life of her. So I've done as he's told me but the truth is I'll never get her 'out of my system' because she was the reason and way I functioned at one time. She'll always be in me, but what I have to do is not let her consume me. And I haven't, the city really has been diverting. Liam is also the reason I'm where I am today. He's shown me there's life after death. "well, styles" he always calls me by my last name "flowers bloom on graves don't they?".

He signed it 'healing// styles'

I've got a full name I stated to myself

I flipped through the book until my eyes caught a flash of blue. I pulled it out and dialed the number written on it.

I sat waiting, on the second ring a woman answered "Hello?"

"Yes hi is this Shelia?" I asked hopefully in a high pitched voice.

"Yes it is, may I ask who is speaking?" "And how you managed to get this number?" she questioned.

"Well that's actually a long story." I chuckled.

"Well I have time." She said.

"Well, okay." I began, I told her everything from the start until now. Including what my nephews wanted to be for Halloween, I didn't miss one detail.

"Wow." She marveled.

"I know it's a mess." I tried to conclude her thoughts. The line went dead for a while, I debated on saying anything.

"So can you help me?" I asked.

"What's the boy's name?" she waited.

"Harry Styles." I said excitedly, I heard her flipping pages and then after a few minutes I heard faint typing on the other end.

"I do have a number for him but we met a long time ago and I'm not sure if he even has the same number." She coughed "But good luck, finding him." She added.

I nodded and then realized she couldn't see me "Thank you so much, you don't realize how much this helps."

She told me the number and said good bye wishing me luck one last time, as soon as I hung up I called the number.

"Hello?" the man answered, I froze. "Hello?" he asked again a little irritated.

"Hi." I greeted.

"Hi." He greeted back, I could hear the confusion in his voice "Who are you?" he questioned.

"Oh, my name is Brenlee O'Brien and I have your journal." I admitted my heart rate climbing.

"Huh?" he sounded more confused than ever.

"I have your journal we grabbed each other's by accident." I rambled.

"I dont keep a journal." He stated, now I was confused.

"You're not Harry Styles?" I questioned.

"No." he answered plainly "This might have been his number at one time I just moved into this apartment and the number came with an already attached phone line." He explained.

"Oh." I said said feeling really embarrassed, I just wanted to hang up on him "I'm sorry." I whispered, I'm not good with apologies. He laughed into the phone.

"Its fine I don't mind, I was just really blown out of the water at first." He replied "It's not every day that you get this kinda phone call." I felt a little better from his words but I was still a deep shade of red.

"Well thank you for your time, I am sorry for this." I said covering my face with my hand as I remembered the social horror I had just committed.

He laughed again snorting this time, as if he could see my facial expression.

"It's really alright, hey your welcome to call back anytime." He squeaked out still laughing, I cringed from the sound.

"Ok thank you." I said hanging up.

I dropped my head on the back of the couch, still sick from embarrassment. I get embarrassed so easily its pitiful. I looked back down at the book sitting on my lap picking up the flower that had been pressed in the pages. I twirled it in my hands.

Harry Styles. Harry Styles. Where for art thou Harry Styles. I thought. Shakespeare can be used in any situation, it really can.

I continued to twirl the flower, I remembered the saying his friend told him. I guess that's why he saved this flower, maybe one of those little girls gave it to him.

Harry Styles puzzles me, I think about him a lot probably more than I should. I wonder what he looks like a lot to be honest. Who wouldn't? I wonder more than anything if he has tried to read my journal if he's tried to find me? And if he has what does he think of me?

What has he concluded about me I know I've concluded some things about him. But what does he think of me?

my phone buzzed i looked down at it.

*You ready?* - Milo

Shoot I lost track of time I thought jumping off the couch curlers bouncing on my head as I ran to get ready.

I'm gonna be so late.