SKIN || l.s.

BEFORE

"He was beautiful, but his hard-brick walls that he accumulated over time was where I fell in love."

"Why does he wear those gloves?

I didn't like touching people. Or the vice versa.

"He's so weird."

I am. But I swear I'm not bad.

"Such a prune."

I am. I'm sorry.

"He's disgusting."

I said I was sorry.

"What is he?"

I'm human just like you.

"I bet his own family hates him. I would."

No, they love me. At least, that's what I think.

"He's so lonely."

It's not so bad.

"Who is he?"

Harry. Harry Styles.

     
     Bullied, thrown around, and stepped on, I became immune. Emotionally. Walls are what became my new friend. Sitting alone was great. Staring at the wall with no feeling was better. I loved my family. They all tried to help me. To give me the touch of reassurance. Literally. Meaning I had to push my own sister and mother away from me. Our love was as strong as those bracelets they give you at the hospital. Yeah, like that. But, I just couldn't. I couldn't. Skin to skin; the greatest, horrific epidemic concept in my life. My enemy.

    And to think, I haven't won that battle yet.

                        Probably never will.