Hopelessly (Sequel to Endlessly)

Chapter 4

*Hazel Murray*

I wasn't prepared at all to see him. I thought I was ready, but I was so far from it. My hands were shaking nervously and I swallowed, the last words we spoke to each other resonating deeply in my bones, the remembrance of why we broke up in the first place being the only chain keeping me from jumping in his arms and begging for us to just start over; that and the arm of another man around my waist.

I remember the shade of his green eyes, perfect and reflecting the deep hurt he was feeling when looking at Sam and I's closeness. Though I shouldn't have cared about him, I did and I hated it. I deserved better than that. He deserved better than that too. I also remember him saying 'Hi' and me muttering a little 'Hello'. Two words, that's all we could say to each other.

But then again, what else was it to say? Everything that needed to be said was said the day I left for America, the day I left him. 'How are you'? We both know the answer to that, and it's not 'I'm good'. 'I miss you'? What good would it bring to us to say that, would we get back together? Certainly not. 'I'm sorry'? It just would hurt us both more than we can take it. That's why after those weak greetings, I took Sam's hand and gently squeezed it, begging him to bring me elsewhere.

Harry hasn't tried to talk to me for the rest of the evening, thankfully and sadly. I was sitting between Niall and Sam, trying to distract myself from what he was saying and trying to look like a couple with Sam so the paps would believe it. It was kind of overwhelming but I managed to do it without a headache.

But it wasn't without a heartache.

Love conquers all? Isn't it funny how you can believe that foolishly until the so-called love throws you in an eternal cycle of regrets and self-loathing? I came to think that love was stupid, love was blind, love was pain. But in the end, it's not really love that hurts; it's the heartbreak that always follows. And yet here I was again, with my heart beating stupidly faster for his stupid dimples and his stupid jokes and my stupid brain trying to reason with my stupid body so I won't jump his stupid bones... But I don't, 'cause I knew better now.

I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid in love... Not anymore, not ever again.

Once or twice was enough and I won't repeat the same mistakes I already did one of too many times.

We thought we were an Endless love, but now we're just hopeless.

After the viewing of the movie, which was very cute and touching, and also kind of heartbreaking since you could see Harry and I's moments a couple of times, I left with Sam and bid him goodbye at his hotel before going to Niall's. Since I didn't want to go to the party because of obvious tensions, I said I'd just go to bed early, but Niall wasn't having it. He was supposed to go to the afterparty with the rest of the lads but he declined, saying he'd rather get drunk with me. Who was I to refuse?

So I went to his house and got really drunk and took tons of pictures and posted them all on Instagram. The next day, not minding the hangover, we visited London together. Then got drunk together that night. The day after that, we jumped in a plane and went in Ireland to see his family, then came back the same day, and got drunk in his flat.

And guess what we did yesterday night?

We went to a party Ed was throwing, and got drunk. I wasn't proud to admit it, but I was so out of it during that party that I barely remember a thing. I remember running into Harry, drunk out of my mind, slurring a couple words that could barely pass for 'Hey you motherfucker' then going back to the couch where Niall was giggling all by himself. Really, I wasn't proud at all.