For Him - Shawn Mendes

a gift from YOU that will hurt

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PART TWO 

16 - 18 yrs

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SHAWN

20th of October, 2014

In the chaos of memories I try my hardest to look away from Lauren. A box, leather, the size of a loaf of bread sits on my lap as I kneel, knees on the carpet, head rested on the bed. My eyes are closed and a cluster of polaroid pictures surround me as I try to even my breathing.

Pressed between my fingers and palm is a photo of Mum with Lauren - back in Grade 5 when she wouldn't let us go to the New Year's parade alone. Mum loved Laur, and in the photo they're smiling like they've won the lotto. I don't want to think about the fact that Hannah will never meet my mum; but I do.

In the corner of my room, tucked behind the door sits 3 gifts from last Christmas. The wrapping is perfect, still. I inch towards them, crawling on my knees like they're explosive - like the last memory of my mum is a danger to me.

I know one of them is a guitar, but it takes until I'm tearing the paper down the spine of the instrument for it to sink in. I feel weak when I hold it, silent tears spilling from my eyes. I'm still on my knees as I lean the dark brown instrument against the wall, looming tall as I lean my head against it. I can only imagine how much it costed.

I look down at my diary beside me and I watch as droplets fall upon the paper, dropping, spreading, drying. I don't rip out the page, because it's the last one in the book. Instead, I write beside it.

20th of October, 2014 - I miss my mum.

And then I open the next present, a shoe box with a pair of black vans. I've grown so much in the last year they're too small, but I don't care. I don't care, because on the top of the box Mum has written Merry Christmas to my favourite son, Shawn in her simplistic, italics handwriting. I spend the next ten minutes tracing over it with my finger. I don't want to forget. I never want to forget.

The next box is small, a red leather cube. I open the lid, slowly, carefully, hardly noticing Aaliyah kneel beside me. She's smiling, because I'm finally doing it - and it feels better than I thought it would. It stings, but as I hold the ring from the box I feel as though a puzzle piece has been locked into place. This is closure, I tell myself, this is final contentment.

"It's pretty," Liayh whispers, taking it from my hands. I nod as she runs her fingers along the engraving, my initials on one side, my parents' on the other. It's silver and it's thick and it's almost as heavy as the weight of my heart as I stare at the wrapping paper around me.

Aaliyah crawls closer to me, a bag in her hands. "What's this?"

"It's from Hannah," I say, realising I haven't opened it yet, "birthday present."

"I like Hannah," Liyah smiles, tearing at the blue paper like the gift is hers. But I don't mind. She puts it to one side, making a neat pile of wrapping paper in the corner of my very un-neat room. I stare at the notebooks inside the bag and admire how pretty they are. Aaliyah picks them up and flicks them over in her hand, eyeing the design on the front of the turquoise one.

I make my sister leave so I can read the letter that comes with it. It's handwritten, on thick paper and I smile at how 1900's it feels. She's traditional, and I like it.

Gorgeous,

Happy birthday! I know that life on the road has been difficult, but I want you to know that with each passing day I grow more and more proud of you. You're crushing it, your dreams and your goals and the music industry as a whole, with such a gentle, mature and humble attitude.

And through this all, things between us haven't been smooth - but you will always be my best friend. Ever since the day I met you on that stage I've wondered what my life would be like without you in it, but every single time I come to the conclusion that my life would simply lack magic. You, Shawn Mendes, are quite possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me. And you're mine.

In New York, I spotted these cute handmade diaries and thought of you. You, like me, share the value and power of words, and I love that about you. I know writing helps, and these might help with lyrics.

The EP is out, and I'm ready for Shawn Mendes' first album, which no doubt will take the world by storm.

So these books, in a sense, are for Part 2. Show the world what you've got.

Han

And I'm crying again, but not because I'm weak and not because I miss my mum, but because despite it all, I'm the luckiest person alive.