Holding On (A Harry Styles Love Story)

"Please, Remember Me."

I was in a very dark place. Not without reason, either. The light of my world wasn't apart of my life anymore. And when you're living in darkness, you get lost.

I was lost in my own murky mind. I tripped over my thoughts and stumbled over my feelings until I knocked them around to the point that they were tangled up in each other. I couldn't think straight; nothing made sense anymore.

I couldn't decide which was worse: losing my mind...or losing him.

One of my major problems was tgar I didn't want him to be a part of my life, but I did. I didn't want to miss him, but I did. I didn't want to love him. But I did. Even when I was determined to block him out, he didn't give up on me. He called once a day- always after dinner. I never answered. He also texted me, sending me intense messages explaining how stupid he was and pleading for forgiveness. I never replied. Just seeing his contact name light up on my phone acted as a twist in the knife that was already lodged in my heart. 

Every time I went on the internet, to the store, and even when he called, his face popped up at me. His grinning face, two dimples present in  his cheeks. The face I loved desperately, even when my mind completely rebelled. Just seeing him hurt me.

I tried my best not to think about him. Whenever his name came up, I tried to tune it out. Everytime I saw his face on some magazine or website, I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut. I thought maybe if I tried hard enough, I could move on.

However, nothing could stop the memories that constantly played and replayed in my head. Nothing could stop his image from haunting me. There's no was to run away from what you want, even if you don't want to learn it. That is a ruthless lesson to learn.

One day, when One Direction was in South Carolina, I sat myself down on our couch to read a book. Looking for Alaska by John Green. I'd wanted to read it for the longest time, and as I sat on the couch with my feet propped up, clad in sweats and sporting a messy bun with a bowl of fresh green grapes in my lap, there was nothing holding me back from diving into it. I began to read, and I was fascinated with Alaska. She was so interesting to me. The way that she was so daring, so fearless. I know she carried a lot of baggage around with her, and I know that she wasn't happy, but she acted like she was. She wasn't afraid of anything. I wished I could be like that. I wish I could trust again.

As I got lost in the book, I felt my phone vibrate beside me. I glanced over at it, and saw the name light up and I sighed when I saw who it was from. It was a video message. Why was he making it so hard to move on? My stomach clenched, and I looked back to my book as I tried to ignore it. He's never sent a video message before. I wonder if he seems happy... I don't want to see his face. Oh, but I do. I don't want to see his expression when he speaks to me, even if we are separated by a screen, and even if he can't see my reaction.

Curiosity overtook me, and I realized that I'd read the same sentence about ten times. Without wanting to, but also wanting to so badly, I reached for my phone and opened the message. I held my breath as I forced my thumb to the screen, pressing 'play'. 

His face immediately enlarged on my screen. He was wearing a beanie, curls poking out in random places, partially framing his face. My eyes started burning; I realized I was staring at his face. His tired, spiritless face. His eye sockets had dark bags under them, his eyes and nose tinted red. With parted, chapped lips, he looked directly into the camera and breathed for a moment, as if he was looking straight through me.