hundred letters - harry styles

Letter 35

Songs:

Nobody Compares - One Direction

Demons - Imagine Dragons

Dear Daisy,

The flat is very big, I feel quite lonely. There's this huge bathroom with this immense mirror wall, you would have loved it. But when going to the bathroom and looking in the mirror I think of two scenarios.

I think of how we used to stand in front of the mirror for about ten minutes, just watching each other, admiring each other and talking to each other through the mirror. I think of how we kissed in front of it and how you used to spray things in my hair when we went out. I love those memories.

On the other hand, I think of the time when I stood in front of the mirror and hated myself, I hated my life and I cut. Yes, that's what comes to my mind sometimes, it reminds me of how dark my life once was. I cut and watched the blood pour down. Maybe it didn't exactly pour since it wasn't such a big amount of blood, but you get me Dase.

So the mirror isn't a big help to let the past be past. In fact, it just reminds me and wakes up all the sleeping memories in my head. But wether it's the mirror or a simple piece of bread, everything reminds me of you and all that comes with you.

I thought the new flat would kind of delete and remove the memories, the hurtful thoughts and all this. It didn't. It only reminds me of how similar this new, cold flat is to our old one. The one that you spent your last hours in and I my darkest.

Still, this is just the first day, a lot can change and can turn into something good. The cards are still open, isn't that what you say?

On the bright side, there's a huge living room with super high tech windows and totally unnecessary stuff. There are lamps that change their colour, depending on the weather they're either blue, pink or yellow. Cool, right?

In my bedroom is a little drawer, only big enough to put my things in it, nothing else. This as well is something I have to get used to. No matter what drawer I open, there are my things in it. No one else's.

The kitchen is big as well, as much high technology as in the living room. I thought why not? Why not changing things and start something new? I almost brought everything here, only a few things are left at your parents.

Speaking of your parents, your dad was a huge help, he organized the transporting things and all that. He really took in a huge place of my heart, he is such a nice man, so very polite and always so positive. I wish I would have had a dad like yours Dase.

Anyway, not much happened since the last time I wrote you, that's what comes with living alone I guess. I just wrote a little short story for the psychology week at the newspaper, it a week where people explain things that happen in their heads. Everyone got different topics and I obviously got suicidal thoughts and depression. I tried to make something out of it, I hope it isn't too bad.

"

Robert came home, he sat down at his desk and started to write things down, things that might motivate him to stay alive.

Flowers he wrote, laughing people, old couples.

That was like a routine, he wrote things on a piece of paper, just to throw it away afterwards.

You have to know, Robert has had a really hard time, he lost the love of his life and now that she is gone, he really doesn't know what to live for. What should he live for when she was his life?

So Robert suffers, more and more everyday, he doesn't plan on suffering long anymore, he plans on giving this an end. He looks forward to stop it right there and continue in heaven.

He often almost slipped out of gods hands and died, but whenever it happened it made him realize how weird it would be to be dead, calm in a way, but weird. Robert said that if he dies, he dies for her, for her love and her near. He had all the testaments written down already, even though there wouldn't be much to give anyway.

Sometimes when Robert came home, he wanted to go right back to the bridge and jump off it, he wanted to shout while doing it and feel the satisfaction that comes with the feeling of giving his life an end. He wanted to stop suffering and crying everyday. No matter what he did, it felt like he was doing it wrong. Not because he was doing it wrong, in fact everything was alright. But the fact that she wasn't there to see it made it feel wrong, it felt wrong to smile when she didn't even have chance to anymore.

It also felt wrong to breathe when she already took her last one.

Yes, you could say Robert was getting depressive, actually it was clear, obviously he was depressive. He was an average case, nothing we haven't seen before. He was getting worse and worse everyday and then he started to hurt himself.

Even thought everyone always says self harm was a stupid attention thing, Robert did it because it helped him. It helped him to avoid his main problems and concentrate about the pain, he thought of the blood that came out of the open wound instead of his broken heart. Sometimes it reminded him that he does have feelings, he isn't numb yet. That's why Robert cut, it made him feel better.

But cutting isn't a solution, that's what Robert found out after months only. Cutting is stupid and painful and it creates ugly scars that make people look at you in a judging way. It makes you feel even more insecure than you already are and you always seem to hide something. Wether it's long sleeves or a shut mouth. You're hiding something.

So was Robert. Robert hid in his flat and talked to no one. He didn't leave his house and didn't eat. He hid in his little protective bubble that kept him from getting hurt even more. But one day, he had to leave this bubble and he had to start living again.

The question is, is he willing to try hard enough to make his life work, or did he give up already and just completely lost all sense of happiness. That's when Robert has to show some effort, it's his turn to make something big, to make his life worth living again."

Dase, if you haven't noticed, I'm Robert in this story, I'm the one suffering.

I love you Daisy

-

If you have depressions or self harm, please do not get offended of what I wrote. This is a fictional story, please remember that.

If you're having a hard time, message me anytime, I'm here for you.

Sorry for this really sad chapter.