Chapter 42

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"She said I'm looking like a bad man, Smooth criminal.
She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before, She said that I don't look like me no more no more.
I said I'm just tired, She said you're just tired.

I said I saw you in the water (do I make you cringe?)"


Harry has taught me a lot of lessons since I've met him, but the one thing he's taught me that I'd rather not know, is that emotional pain can physically hurt.

I haven't spoken to him since Monday, it's now Saturday, and for the first couple of days the silence was on his end, but now it's on mine.

He tried calling me by Wednesday, I haven't gotten any late night calls, which I'm grateful for, because I know I wouldn't be able to just ignore him when I've seen how whatever haunts him on those nights devastates him.

Regardless of how hurt or angry I was, I'd never just leave him alone when he was like that, however, I've ignored the rest of his calls.

He can't just turn up at my work, because I'm not there, I start my job at the rescue centre on Monday, and I'm fairly surprised he hasn't just turned up at my apartment.

I think maybe he knows better this time.

Maybe being punched in the jaw was the best thing that could have happened and the worst at the same time, if it wasn't for that night I don't know where things would be with Harry, I don't know if they would be better or worse. But I feel like it knocked the sense into me that I don't want to put up with people walking over me any more.

I will never let someone treat me like that ever again, and that includes Harry, even if it kills me.

I've spent most of the week curled on my couch, wondering what the point of a heart is when mine feels like its being put through a meat grinder, like I've got acid pumping through my arteries that fiercely it's hard to breathe.

My body feels like its had a sickness I can't get rid of, no matter what I do this hollow space inside me only makes the pain crashing around inside me echo louder.

Who knew silence could be so violent, if I thought that month that I didn't hear from Harry crushed me, then the state I've been in for the last almost week must mean I've been reduced to ashes instead.

I couldn't even look at the camera he gave me without feeling my throat swell so tightly I choked, my eyes even lost their purpose, they became something that only knew how to produce tears, blurring everything around me to the point I'd be better off going blind instead.

I can't think straight, I can't eat and I may as well not even bother with trying to sleep, he doesn't even have the decency to stay out of my dreams.

I'd rather spend my days exhausted than constantly being taunted with having him back, those same soft warm green eyes and smile that made my blood sing, feeling him wrap his arms around me, remembering what his lips felt like capturing mine - only to wake up to my empty room, and relive the disappointment all over again.

The realisation that it only hurts this badly because of how I truly feel about him, the notion I've tried to ignore, has been made excruciatingly obvious.

I don't just care about him, it's not just deep feelings but I can't even say the word without becoming angry and frustrated at myself for feeling it at all.

Having that feeling for him is like pouring myself into a bucket with a hole at the bottom, no matter how much I give he could never keep me full, because I simply don't think he's capable of it.

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