Pack yourself a toothbrush, dear

chapter eighteen

The radio didn't really work in the forest pathway except for sputtering out unbearable static. And the silence that allowed me to gather my thoughts together was driving me absolutely crazy. I felt like swerving right into a fucking tree and be done with it. 

All I could think about was Harry's mouth on mine and how familiar and safe it felt, his breathe on my cheek and how it felt like coming home after a long day at work. and how soft and warm he looked in his brown, furry sweater. And how much I'd love to hold him. 

How the fuck am I expected to get married, when my mind is taken up with thoughts of Harry ?Harry is the kind of person that would make your knees buckle, he puts forward the kind of love that would make you believe the entire cosmos could fit in a person. And when he loves, he gives all of him. It's the kind of love that has no pretenses, that will understand you again and again. and again. 

It's the whole hearted belief, the genuine love that is so empowering that even if it ends, you never forget how it uplifted you. And I failed him. 

Fuck this shit. I punch my fist across the steering wheel. 

I gave up after a while and absent minded-ly put in the CD that Harry handed to me. I know his voice is the last thing I need right now, but at least, it's not the buzzing, deafening silence creeping into my ears.

Soft guitar strumming poured out. 

But as soon as the track started, I had to fucking shove my foot down the break pedal and receive a nice jerk from my seat belt that surely managed to rattle all of my bones that definitely shouldn't rattle, because a soothing voice had already started,

"sweet creature, had another talk about where it's going wrong but we're still young-"

Harry, my sweet, beautiful Harry, the arsehole that he is, he did it. He wrote the bloody song. He kept his promise. My heart momentarily swelled up in my chest. When I took in a breath, it felt like I had just whipped my head out of the water after getting trapped in the ocean for ten painstaking minutes. 

"We don't know where we're going but we know where we belong."

And i'm forced to assign a physical name to the gut wrenching pain I'm feeling, so I punch the steering wheel hard again and again, banging my fist against it in desperate motions till the skin on my knuckles wear off, crying miserably in my car. in the middle of the forest. at six in the morning.

what a mess.

There's a thin strand of sunlight filtering through the canopy of the trees and if Harry was here, if he stood somewhere out there, he would glow. I can almost see him, standing under the sun, ethereally poised and positively glittering. There's this smile on his face, as big as the croissants he used to bake for us on rainy weekend mornings, and he's looking at me. 

There's no way in hell that I can forget a face like this, or get over this face.  

"and oh, we started, two hearts in one home. It's gets harder when we argue, we're both stubborn, I know. but, oh"

There's fresh, hot tears replacing the crusty dried ones on my cheek. We had started in that tiny, crammed up apartment where we fell in love under the same roof, the same sky. and fuck, he said two hearts in one home. he said that-

and Jesus, we argue. we argue so fucking much. We argue about who kissed whom, we argue about who stole whose socks, we argue about who flirted with the hot waiter in the cafe across the street. Heck, we argue over ice cream.

and we're so bloody stubborn.

"sweet creature, sweet creature. wherever I go, you bring me home. sweet creature, sweet creature when I run out of road, you bring me home."