Prologue

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        They say time heals all sorts of pain. Mental pain; like losing your favorite cat then in a year it ends up on your doorstep. Physical pain; such as breaking your leg when jumping off a trampoline into the pool but you accidentally jump into the shallow end. Then the most typical type of pain; heartbreak. The love of your life just so happens to go away for a long time and you have to sit there all alone and suffer. But time heals you, remember?

        I honestly can’t say how much time had to pass before I could even turn on the radio without crying, and for me crying is a big deal. For the first month I couldn’t walk by the hotel where we had met. I went out of my way to avoid all sorts of places that could trigger memories. I hated the feeling of everything rushing back. It felt as if I could actually hear the laugh of all of them, the distinct voices of them calling my name. Certain hairstyles brought back the heartbreak. Hell, even the word ‘hairstyles’ reminded me too much of him, of them. My hair hadn’t gotten a proper haircut since they left.

        Maybe I should stop weeping about, get out of bed and go running. I could give myself another makeover and go out with the girls. Spend hours dancing at a random club with random boys who just want to get it in. If I opened my closet I’d see the clothes I was given, that I didn’t have the heart to throw away. If anyone besides myself touched them I would freak out on them. 

        I honestly wasn’t like other girls. Some girls, when heartbroken, take everything they had ever been given, and that the boy ever touched, and they burn or destroy it. Other girls just ignore it and keep the stuff. I mean, who doesn’t like free stuff? I guess I’m kind of like the girls who cling to the last bits of the relationship possible. People would facebook me, email me, tweet and text me constantly asking me how I was doing. I did the one thing I knew that I was a master at; I didn’t respond. I stayed away from people and locked my bedroom door so no one could try to comfort me.

        Maybe if I had known the outcome I wouldn’t have been so attached. Maybe I wouldn’t have acted the way I did. Maybe I would have closed myself off even more, not opening to them the way I did specially. Each one was different. Each one affected me more and more each day. 

        I remember the day they all broke the news to me. I walked in to the studio, all of them sitting on a stool. They were all handsome.. Of course my mind screamed at me to run out the door, that something about this picture was wrong. The way their eyes all held sadness, faces trying to compose a happy emotion. When I finally demanded they tell me what was going on- the silence was killer. 

        he words stung, it cut right into my heart. I let them all leave me, not crying until he stood in front of me. His hand found mine, giving me a caring squeeze. The chemistry between us was still there, the fuzzy feeling creeping back into my heart. No words were shared between us, unlike the others and I had done. All he did was lean in and kiss the corner of my lips, my knees nearly giving out. His face stayed close to mine as tears poured out of my eyes.  His hands left mine, wrapping around my waist. I buried my face in his neck, I was finally in hysterics. 

        So this is it, this is the end of us.

        He did things to me no one could ever do. He opened me u and changed me. 

He had that one thing.

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