SIX YEARS || HS ✔️

year three

"The third year of our relationship involved the messy, 'I love you,' and where we had finally had that moment of sharing our love."

This third session I have been hoping is my last and final, but I know it actually won't be. Harry and I's relationship had lasted six years, and there was very much details about each year. But, as I tell Mrs. Forman about the little things in our relationship that seemingly means to be the big and important ideas, I do not tell her about every single damn thing.

There were times when Harry and I would not talk for days, and I strangely could not believe that I went that long without seeing him or hearing his voice. Our fights would involve the most brought up subject of his band and the travels. Sometimes, the fights included my parents and their decisions of Harry. From what they had seen of Harry from our past three year relationship, they had came to the conclusion fairly quick that he was some twenty-year-old boy, who had his ego packed inside his body until it would eventually explode. The ego had come from his looks, they had thought, as well as the fact that Harry was the lead singer of The Stoners and was told he had such a beautiful voice.

From what I have seen on the television, Harry's voice is still elegantly amazing. My parents had terrible judgement of him for some reason, and I still never understand quite why. Maybe it was the whole 'bad boy' image Harry had slightly played off; he was a fan of intimidating people at times. But, most of the times, he acted okay and fine. Harry just liked the idea of having two sides.

"How many highlights do you have of the third year of Harry and your relationship?" Mrs. Forman pulls my lingering mind out of my contemplations, and instantly, my eyes are met with her pen scribbling down unknown thoughts.

"There were many, very many. I mean, almost every damn second was the highlight of our relationship. Harry told me he loved me in the third year, and this was also when he took his first small tour," my hands find their way to picking at the loose strands of my shirt.

I am not going to tell the shrink about every single damn detail about the third year. Harry and I had finally had sex after confessing our love for each other, but it had took a while. My mind had consciously been deciding if I was in love with him or not, months after Harry told me that he loved me. It wasn't a very good time of when Harry told me his little confirmation. Harry had took me to another party, and in the midst of his drunkenness, he ran upstairs and grabbed me with him. As he was puking in the toilet, he yelled out the words, 'God, I'm so in love with you,' which immediately made me think it was the alcohol running through his blood. It wasn't come to find out in a couple hours.

"Did you both have a fight over it?"

"What?" I ask, completely oblivious to what Mrs. Forman is talking about.

"What I am asking, Ms. Young, is if you and Harry had a fight over the tour," she is becoming impatient with me, I can easily tell. Her face has contorted into a mixture of anger, showing off the slight wrinkles indented into the skin, as well as annoyance. My zoning off has been too much to handle for her, and believe me, if I am in her position, the feeling would probably be the same, too.

"Of course we did," a dry laugh falls out of my chapped lips. I can feel the tears prickling at the memories of our past fights, but my eyes close to push them behind. "There were many fights, Mrs. Forman, and frankly, I think I have already told you that many of times."

Mrs. Forman is now on the verge of anger, almost past her limit. It's not like I burned her with that, I had been speaking the truth. I have been telling her countless times that Harry and I fought in more ways she could think of in tragic ways. She knows, God, how much she knows is terrible. But, to my parents, I'm the sad girl who just got out of a six year relationship and needs help coping with it, even though the relationship ended almost a year ago.