E m m a
Numbness.
That's all I can feel.
I've lost everything within the space of a day. Everything I've ever wanted in life, gone in a flash because of something I've done, something I couldn't control.
Harry hates me and I think that's one of the worst feeling's I could ever experience in my entire life, my heart wrenched when I watched the tears fall from his eyes. His eyes aren't meant to cry, he's supposed to be my rock, the strong one in our relationship but that demeanour seemed to change.
He looked so authoritative and firm when I first entered, but by the time I left he was vulnerable and broken hearted. To think that my words did that to him makes me want to be sick, it makes me want to scream at myself in the mirror for causing him so much pain.
I deserve everything I get, I am a horrible person and I shouldn't be allowed happiness. I have ruined two peoples lives and I can't take it back. He won't listen to me now, he's stubborn and I don't blame him; I'm not really surprised that he kicked me out, I would have done the same, I hate myself.
I left my car at the house, my keys still on the couch where I once had them; I don't need the car, I deserve the rain pour. The once natural beauty that I loved so much, now makes me feel solemn and lifeless.
The cold droplets decreasing my body temperature, the sharp taps from the rough speed of the frail raindrops pattering down on my pain skin; I remember this rain, the same rain that Harry and I shared our first kiss in.
I'd like to think that I'm somewhat like the rain. Not many people enjoy it's company, it's disappointing, and when it falls it can create disasters beyond compare. I am the rain, the same rain that falls around me and lands in tiny puddles below my feet, I am the rain that harshly taps on people's skin and creates a small amour of discomfort; I am the rain that people hate, the really fine rain that gets you soaked even quicker than any other.
I am the falling rain.
So dreary and unwanted, I'm pointless and un preferable. I am nothing but a reason for unhappiness. I cause so much disruption and become unfortunate in any situation. My dreary presence becoming unwanted and unwelcome. I am the fallen rain that dips down the perfect glass of your window, the one that you watch incessantly and become fascinated by but never actually care for.
I. Am. Nothing.
My feet pad across the concrete paths, my hair fully drenched and my clothes soaked through as I walk a far and familiar route. There is only one person I could go to in this time of need, because no matter what they're always there for me, as I am for them.
A light mist covers the dark streets of London, the only source of light coming from the street lamps and the garage that is still open; a few cars filling up their petrol tanks for the week ahead, probably doing the chore before they head back home from a busy day at work, excited to see their families whilst I wander the streets aimlessly having just lost my only source of family.
I have to keep reminding myself that I've lost him, the internal torture making me feel like I am suffering for my actions. I clutch my handbag closely to my side as I near the close, my cream felt coat being wrapped further around my body to keep me warm.
The streets remain dim as I walk through the mist, cars passing quickly, theirs speeds causing a large breeze each time making my lose curls whirl in the bitter London air. I drown everything out. Every noise, every strange gaze of recognition, every distant car horn. I allow silence to fill my ears as my eyes focus on where I'm going.
I don't know what's going to happen when I get there, whether I'll be allowed into the house or whether I'll be turned away like I expect. I've left mine and Harry's house with nothing but my coat and bag, I'm probably never going to see that house again, I'm not surprised if he doesn't want me near him. I understand his reasoning and it pains me to be away from him, but if that's what will make him happy then so be it.
The last couple of weeks have been nothing but torture to me. I didn't know what to tell him, or whether he'd believe me or accept my apology; I didn't want him to hate me like he does now, this is what I was afraid of, I didn't want him to leave me so that's why I didn't tell him. I avoided him at all costs until I figured out a way to tell him, I needed time, and the longer I waited the more guilty I felt for not telling him. Then I became disappointed in myself, knowing how bad of a wife I had become, barely speaking to him, and lying to him.
And George didn't help at all, his words of wisdom and his advice was helpful at first but now it all seems pointless. He was the one that told me to tell Harry when I was ready, but I shouldn't have done that, I should have told him at the beginning. And then I might not be where I am now.
I see the familiar house in my sight and quicken my pace to get there. I just want to be inside, and warm, and in a place where I can lock myself away and continue to torture myself for everything I've done. I feel emotionless, I've run out of tears, all I feel is regret and sorrow and loneliness.
I have nothing to live for anymore.
My hand raises to the black glossy door and I wait a few seconds before it opens, revealing a very shocked and concerned face. "Em's?"
"Hi Hayles." I croak out, her hands grabbing hold of my sopping wet coat and removing it from my shoulders. The heavy weight now removed makes me feel a lot lighter, although my shoulders remain in their somewhat slumped position.
She wraps a nearby towel over my shoulders, the cold rain droplets from my hair working their way down the soft material. We walk carefully through to the living room, the open fire blazing and the warm air radiating off it crashes into my face as I enter the room. "What happened?" She asks worriedly.
"Harry, told me to leave." My breath hitches as I say his name, it not being the pleasant feeling as it used to be, it's more pained and sorrowful now.
"So you talked?" She asks, her eyebrows furrowed at me as I simply nod in return. I don't want to have to explain everything, I just want to be alone and wallow in my own self pity. "Can you tell me what you did?" She asks me hopefully. The question everyone wants to know the answer to but the one I refuse to speak aloud. I don't want to believe it's true.
"I-I can't." I tell her honestly, my once dry eyes now brimming with tears again as I think of everything that has happened.
She clearly notices the pain in my eyes and helps me up, but as we walk out of the room, I hear an unwelcoming voice. "What the hell is she doing here?" Niall's familiar Irish accent sounds. He has every right to be angry at me, so as much as it hurts to hear I simply just accept it.
"I know you hate me Niall, and you have every right to, I hate myself; but I have no-one and no-where to go, so by all means hate me, it's not going to make me feel worse than I already do." I finish, Hayley pulling me upstairs and into the spare bedroom. The blackout blind closed and the bed ready made for any company they may have.
I sit down and watch my feet, I can tell Hayley wants to say something but she decides against it, just walking to the door. "Thanks Hayles." I gratefully murmur, my mind focusing back on the last few hours, placing the horrific scenes over and over again in my head.
"It's okay." She whispers before leaving me to torture myself once again.
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- Pianogirl56
