seventy one.

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Circa 2016

   I've had a lot of awful days in my life. Some shitty things have happened. But none of it, I don't think, can compare to three days ago. The absolute worst day of my life. I had thought the day I got the news that would be it. But no, three days ago was the worst because it was me who was in full control.

   I didn't really think this through. I'm starting to regret my decision in telling him I'm done. I didn't even give him a real reason and on top of it, I let him believe I cheated. The heartbreak in his eyes... Fuck me. I'm such a fucking bitch.

   Why did I do this? That's the only thing I can think about. On the drive to the airport in New York. On the flight from New York to LA. I don't think I've slept since that night. Not properly, at least. The burn in my eyes at the pounding of my entire head backs up my assumption. Now that I'm in the Uber I ordered from the airport, I can't stop thinking about Harry.

   I know he came back to LA yesterday, I'm just hoping he's at home because I need to talk to him. Plus, my fucking car is at his fucking house. Since Harry had been in Jamaica, I was staying at his house for a bit, hence why my car is there. Even if I didn't want to see him - and trust me, I need to see him - I'd still have to go there anyway.

   I gave my driver an address a few houses away from Harry's house. If I'm going to someone's house, I've never given a driver the real address of the one I intend to go to, always one at least two houses down from it. In a few minutes when I'm dropped off, I'll use the short distance walk to Harry's house to practice the speech I planned one last time.

"Thank you." I express my gratitude to the driver after he gets out and helps me with my suitcase from the trunk.

   Less than forty seconds later he's driven off and I'm still standing in place. I pull out my phone and check the time, hoping he's home while another part of me hopes he's not so I can hold off for a couple more hours.

   Sighing, I start the two minute walk. In my head I rehearse the speech I want to give Harry when I see him.

"I know I told you I'm done and that I didn't want to see you anymore but I don't think I actually want that. And I know it's really unfair of me to come here and tell you that after how I left things with you, but I'm really hoping you'll let me come in and talk to you about this because it's not right. None of this is right and I just really hope you'll forgive me and not hate me. I can't lose you. I need you in my life. I'm sorry, I really am sorry, Harry."

   And then I'm hoping that he opens the door, invites me inside and gives me a chance to explain everything to him.

   I blink and I'm at his gate, suitcase in tow and anxiety on my shoulders. The weight of both are dragging me down but I punch the code in and the automatic gate begins to open silently.

Ever Since LA - h.s.Where stories live. Discover now