Pretending {H.S}

Never Enough.

Anna

Six days.

Six days since I left my room for anything more than to use the bathroom.

Six days of tears and turmoil.

Six days since my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Lee was understanding, she told me just to call her when I felt up to coming back to work and my professors were concerned since I'd never so much as missed a study session never mind a whole week of classes.

But I didn't care. I had no energy for school or work or being vertical for any great length of time.

And it was all Harry's fault.

Why did he have to sleep with someone else and fuck my head up so badly? He met my parents, he saw my home town and after all that it's just not enough?

I'm not enough.

That phrase had been knocking around in my head since I hung up on him in the car. I got out like a zombie and made my way back to the dorm on autopilot.

I passed by Niall and Ollie without a word, my ears were ringing, I don't know if they asked what happened or what was wrong with me but they knew now.

Word got around fast I guess.

Niall was furious, that I know for sure. The walls shook with the sheer volume of his voice but the words he spoke were gibberish to me, I couldn't focus.

The only thing filling my thoughts was the heart shattering image of Harry seeing that girl in a bar and deciding that he needed more.

He couldn't get by on what we had alone, we weren't enough for him to be happy.

I wasn't enough to make him happy.

My fingers brushed the tattoo on the back of my neck, that's how certain I'd been that we would always be in each others lives, that he would never hurt me.

I wished I never caved into my feelings for him, that I hadn't asked that stupid question on my birthday that led us down this path.

The path to our destruction.

I knew what he was, what he'd always been. Monogamy was the opposite of what he wanted and I let my delusional fantasies cloud my judgement because I wanted him.

And I wanted him to want me back.

It was just a shame that he did for a while, until he remembered how good he had it before us.

The way Kara looked at him in the kitchen should have been the first sign of defeat, it showed unfinished business but I ignored it because Harry fed me pretty excuses and false promises.

I desperately wanted to hate him. To burn every memory I had of ever loving him and move on like I had with Kacy.

But Harry was the reason I moved on, he put all my pieces back together and pretended to love them even though they didn't fit quite right anymore.

Love. That was the wrong word. He couldn't have loved me, not how I did him.

The love I felt wouldn't have allowed me to wonder what I was missing being with him, it disregarded any notion that what we had could ever falter.

I thought I knew how he felt about us but I, as it seems in many parts of my life, was wrong.

I lay in my failure, steeping in my inability to see his true intentions. Devastated by the loss I brought upon myself.

Quietly hoping that the next time I woke up I wouldn't be this way anymore.

Broken.

My door creaked open, a slim beam of light cutting through the depressive darkness that had consumed my once cheery bedroom.