𝑶𝒂𝒌 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒆 ✔️

Epilogue.

a.n let's try and comment as much as possible

Present

And they didn't know how long this went on for.

Ignoring each other, Harry stumbling in bed at two in the morning with hickeys on his neck and leaving the bed that was made for two at seven in the morning.

They didn't know how long Camila only saw blue and only felt blue and only breathed blue.

They didn't know how long they were a mess for.

But when your parents are constantly arguing and only give you money because they pretty much control you and your mom died and your baby died and the consistent arguing between lovers, it didn't really matter because they didn't really care anymore.

And they didn't shed any more tears- they haven't shed any tears in awhile because they couldn't find the point in crying.

And although they were rich and they lived in the apartment by the oak tree they weren't happy.

Camila had no motivation to do anything with her life now that her mom passed away and her jewel died and her marriage was ruined and all her polaroids were thrown away.

And the only motivation Harry had was work work work and the murmurs of gotta get this work done. Even though there was no pencils or wild imaginations and were keyboards, computers and one way.

He didn't know if Camila was his motivation anymore now that he came home with prominent hickeys.

He loved her.

And she loved him.

But they were no longer Cam and Harry

They were

Cam

And

Harry

And she slowly started to care and she couldn't take it anymore.

So she left.

Because she felt like she wasn't wanted in her own home even though it didn't really feel like home anymore.

And she wrote to him saying how she missed the meetings under the tree
The time they first said I love you
The time they first said love you
The time they moved in together
The time she proposed to him
The time she comforted him when he felt alone
The time he comforted her when she felt alone
The time they got married
The time she was pregnant

But then everything went wrong.

And she wrote to him that she loved him and that it was bound to happen with all the shit that's happened.

And she couldn't fight for him anymore- not when he wasn't even trying anymore- not when they only saw each other on Wednesday's.

She wrote that she felt like she wasn't worth it anymore.

And that she wanted to die.

And that she didn't have the same toothy smiles and wise words and only had grim faces that represented the colour blue and could barely talk without a sob escaping her throat.

And she wanted to die.

But she also wanted to live.

And she wrote that she needed to take stop the burning in her lungs, to find the oxygen she once had.