After Life

39

I pressed my shoulders back into the pillow behind me, causing it to curve around my head and neck. My knees bent further towards me, bringing the laptop nestled across my legs closer to my face. I was curled up under a blanket, pulling it up to my chin. My skin felt chilled, even though the breeze coming in from the now open window in the living room was warm.

I knew the chill was coming from something else. More specifically, Harry. From the moment he walked out my door, leaving me standing at the threshold with tears falling from my eyes, I had felt cold. I stood there for a long while, wondering if he would come back, if he would have made it out to the street and realized his mistake and come bounding back up the stairs towards me. But he didn't.

Slamming the door, I stomped back towards the living room, tearing down the studio setup roughly, not even careful as I packed it away and shoved it in the closet. I just wanted it out of sight, to clear away the proof of what had just happened.

For over and hour afterwards, I sat on the couch, curled into a little ball. My arms wrapped around my legs, one hand pressed to my lips as I chewed on my nails. It was a horrible habit I thought I had broken time and time again, until I found myself stressed out and upset. And right now, I was very much so.

I couldn't even wrap my mind around what had just happened. In the span of one day, Harry went from playful, to revealing, to moody, to passionate. He left my head spinning, my heart clenching and my body reeling.

He also left me feeling raw, exposed, humiliated and rejected. He had caught me completely off guard when he pressed his lips to mine, pushing me against the window. Although it was an action I welcomed whole heartedly, I hadn't been prepared for it in the least. Harry had become more demonstrative over recent weeks, but had made no indication of moving out of our friend zone. But in one impulsive move, he had thrown us so far from the friend zone I couldn't even see its borders anymore.

And just as quickly, he seemed to regret his decision. My own misstep, my own lack in judgment as I reached down to touch his body, seemed to break him from whatever spell had taken him over. Immediately, I could see the change in his eyes, as if a veil had lifted and he could see clearly. And the moment he saw clearly, saw me, he turned and ran.

If that wasn't a slap in the face, I don't know what is.

 I felt as if I was in the middle of the ocean, in a tiny raft, not knowing where to find land. No shoreline in sight, no stars to guide my way. He left me abandoned after rocking me to the core, and for those few moments of incredible passion, I was left with a million questions and fears.

Where did this leave us now? He had literally ran away from me, as if the realization of what he had done was so completely wrong he couldn't stand to stay and explain himself. He had told me he missed me, brought me a gift, and told me I was like a therapy for him. Was all that over now? Was today the final session?

In a sense, it was. Because we had finished our shoot, and essentially, finished my project. Our reason for being together was over, and it was up to us if we wanted to continue in each others lives. I knew I wanted to, and until I watched his back disappear down the stairs, I thought he had too. Now, I had no idea what to think.

After torturing myself on the couch for over an hour, my eyes flickered to the camera that still sat perched upon the window ledge. Even though a part of me didn't want to see the images, because I so badly didn't want to see his face, the stronger part of me wanted to see if I had captured everything I had thought I had in the moment.