Trying to plan a funeral while you're bleeding out is hard.
Trying to pick a casket while you're flatlining is hard.
Trying to decide where to bury your friend is deadly.
Doing it alone felt like digging our own graves.
It had been two weeks, we hadn't all been in a room together since we walked out of the hospital. I stayed at Liam's, I slept on their couch and Cora tried her best to keep both me and Liam functioning.
Niall stopped by some days, we'd just sit in the living room and cry. We'd smoke and cry and smoke some more until we couldn't feel anything anymore. He went to Vegas for a few days, hustled hundreds of thousands of dollars from slimy old men at the tables. He came back and paid for the entire funeral.
Zayn would come by more regularly, he'd bring booze. Him and Liam would sit in silence and pass the bottle back and forth while they held me as I cried until I fell asleep.
We didn't talk about Louis. I couldn't talk about him. I wanted to, I did. I wanted to tell stories about how he made me laugh and how he made me strong and how he taught me what family felt like, but every time the words tried to claw up my throat, bile rose behind them. So I swallowed them down.
The only time we discussed him was in planning for the funeral. Liam and Niall picked his casket, it was black and shiny with cream satin lining. He would have liked it. Harry picked the funeral home and the cemetery, but I picked the plot. It was out of the city, we had to drive a bit to get there but I liked that. I liked the thought that someday we'd make the drive together, even if we couldn't right now. It was a great location, and the plot was perfect. It was far in the back, by some overgrown trees. There were no current graves there, it had several empty plots and old headstones that you couldn't read anymore. It was secluded, peaceful, it felt like a place just for him, no one would be walking over him or walking by him and paying him no attention. It felt like a spot just for us.
I hadn't seen Harry since the hospital. Niall took him and they disappeared that night, he hadn't been around since. I knew the others had seen him though, I heard Liam talking to him sometimes at night on the balcony.
"She's alright. You should come over, it might help. Being alone doesn't seem like the best thing for any of us."
"No I get it, H, but I just think-"
"Well maybe it would help her, you kno-"
"Yeah, no you're right. I know, I know. I just think you guys could use each other right now, you could help each other."
"Yeah. Yeah, I will. See you soon. Bye."
At least he was asking about me. I hadn't had it me to ask any of them how he was doing, my grief was too all-consuming for that I guess.
Two weeks went by fast. The days were so long, but then I blinked and it was time. I was picking out a dress to wear to a funeral. I decided to wear black, not because I thought I had to, but because he liked that dress. He was with me when I bought it in college, he'd taken me out to lunch and shopping after a pretty nasty fight with Harry. It was a simple black dress, long-sleeved, really wide neckline that almost went off my shoulders, and it hugged me just right. He told me I looked grown up in that dress like I could handle anything. I needed that feeling.
I got dressed and got myself looking presentable. I put on my shoes, grabbed a small purse to hold as many tissues as possible, and stared at the small paper sitting on the bathroom counter. I needed to fold it and put it in the purse or in my pocket, I needed to bring it with me, but god I didn't want to. No part of me wanted to face that eulogy.
We agreed that we would all speak, just say a little something so that we paid him the respects that deserved. I wasn't sure that I was going to survive it, but if they all could do it, so could I. I would not be the one too weak to speak about him, I wouldn't let myself.
We drove to the venue in silence. Cora and Liam held hands in the front seats while the radio droned on, filling the car with mindless ramblings. Zayn rode with us, he didn't want me to be alone back here, so he sat and let me lay my head on his shoulder while he held my hand and stroked his thumb across my skin. It was nice, it was comforting, but he wasn't the person I needed.
When we got there, there were only a few cars, which I was grateful for. Somehow, Liam was able to remember to call Louis' parents and offer to send them his "ashes" himself. He told them that he wanted them to be able to throw a proper memorial for their son and a bunch of other bullshit to keep them off our backs and not suspicious of his whereabouts. He sent them an urn of unclaimed ashes from the veterinarian's office. They didn't deserve a piece of him anyway.
Zayn held the door for me and helped me out of the car and then he wrapped his long arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. I wasn't sure which of us needed to lean on the other one more, but we made it inside together. It was warmly lit, it had a cozy feel to it that I liked. It was small, and old, but beautiful. There was a stained glass window that let in beautiful light, but not a cross to be seen. It wasn't a church, which was important to us. It was just a space. We had no priest in attendance, just a bunch of fuck-ups pretending to be adults, trying to mourn their friend.
We invited everyone from the shop, his friends from Vegas, and some other friends he'd made along the way. It was a small group of us, no more than 20 people total. I shouldn't have been surprised to see Harry when we walked in, but I was. He was talking to people, making them smile, introducing them, making everyone comfortable. The perfect charmer, just like he'd always been. It reminded me of when we were young.
I wasn't sure where Harry and I stood, we were kind of mid-argument when the world ended. I was unsure of almost everything really, my whole existence just felt wrong. But then, Harry turned and his eyes met mine, and they were so sad underneath the surface. They were so sad, but his shoulders relaxed when he saw me. They were sad, but he let out a breath. He looked at me and he felt like mine.
It was the same look that we'd shared across a room over and over again since we were teenagers. That tension, that pull, all releases. The magnets flip, even just for a second, and we're locked in. Everyone goes blurry around the edges like a movie, and it's what people write songs about, just him and me and our pain and our moment. And then it's over, and life continues, and he turns back to the group of people he was talking to, and I put one foot in front of the other and continue inside.
One of the artists at the tattoo shop was a writer or a poet of some kind, so he offered to speak for the majority of the service. He stood there up at a podium with a squeaky microphone and spoke some words that I'm sure were very touching, but I didn't hear any of them. I was just staring at the photograph behind him. It was a photo that I took one afternoon in the studio when Lou stopped by for lunch. I was testing the lighting for a client that was coming in that afternoon and I had just asked him to sit on the stool. It turned out to be a great picture of him, and now it was blown up on an easel with flowers along the base of it.
I kept looking at it and trying to picture what Lou would like older, mature, and grey-haired, wrinkly, and grumpy. Each time I tried I couldn't really see it, I just kept thinking of that client from a while ago that I liked so much. He reminded me of Lou then, and I knew it would feel like a punch to the gut when I had to see him again. My mind couldn't picture Lou older, but my memories of him when we were young were so vivid and clear.
I could remember the first time I smoked with him, watching him walk around school in his stupid skinny jeans that wouldn't have fit my thigh, late-night gas station runs to get snacks with the boys before we drove out to the beach, watching him graduate high school and the smile on his face when we all cheered way too loudly. I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a familiar voice clear his throat and start to speak.
"Hello everyone, I uh, I know that I can speak for all of us when I say that we're really glad you could be here, but we really wish we fuckin' weren't." The crowd laughed a little bit and I felt someone move into the seat next to me. It was Harry. His olive green suit caught my eye, but he didn't look at me. He just sat next to me while Niall spoke, I guess he didn't want to sit alone.
"The five of us have each prepared a little something to say, nothing crazy, we won't talk your ear off, but we're his family and nobody knows him- or Uhm, knew him, better than us. Louis was quite possibly the best of us. He was the most level-headed, he kept his cool at all times. He was stable, he kept us steady. He was a rock for each and every one of us, from the time we met him to the second we lost him. I don't know that anything will ever feel right again. I miss you, Lou." With a sniffle and a wipe of his eyes, Niall stepped off the stage and took his seat next to G.
Zayn stood from his seat beside me, squeezed my knee, and walked up to the podium. I took a shaky breath while another tear tumbled down my cheek and then I felt the soft brush of skin against my hand. When I looked down at my lap, Harry linked his pinky with mine.
"Uhm, I don't really know what to say. This is fucking shit. I'm not good with words, Lou used to call me the action man because I don't think things through, I don't talk about them, I just do shit without processing. He helped me process things, helped me work through things in my head, and make plans before just going out and causing trouble. I'd have never lived through college if it wasn't for him. I'm only here because of him. So this is all a bit fucked...yeah." Z cleared his throat and shook his head and then walked down the steps and came back to his seat.
No one moved for a moment, and then Harry let out a breath and stood. He squeezed my pinky with his before he walked away and took his place at the podium. He just stood there for a moment, ran his hand through his hair, and then gripped the podium and started to talk. "Louis fuckin' Tomlinson. Weasley little shit. Absolute fuckin' weasel when he wanted to be." Harry smiled down at the podium and the crowd laughed. Even Zayn chuckled next to me.
"When I met Lou he was gettin' the shit kicked out of him at our school for defending a couple of kids. He didn't care that I didn't help him, he never held that against me. For years after that, he watched me make stupid fucking decisions, and he never held them against me. He watched me be the worst versions of myself, watched me hurt people that didn't deserve it, watched me hurt myself out of foolish pride, and not once did he ever hold it against me." Harry took a pause, cleared his throat. I wiped the tears from my chin and neck.
"He told me once, "I think someday you're gonna realize that you're not as bad as you think you are. I think you'll pull your head out of your ass and realize that we all see through you. At least I do." And he did. He saw right through me from the second I met him. He knew my intentions better than I ever did. Louis was the best of us. He saw through all of us, and loved us anyway. He knew us all on levels that we are too scared to show the world, and he loved us anyway." I watched tears well in Harry's eyes as he looked to his left at the picture of Lou.
"I'm sorry, Louis." Was all he said before moving away from the podium. Liam met him halfway and wrapped him in a hug, they stayed like that for a few seconds and it made me cry even harder.
I expected Liam to walk up to the podium and give his speech, but he stopped and walked over to me. He crouched down in front of me like he used to do when I was a little girl and he held his hands out to me. "Do you want to do it together? I don't really want to stand there all alone." I nodded my head and took his hands, we stood and he hugged me tight. I was so relieved that I wouldn't have to do it alone, thank god I had my brother.
We stood at that podium, holding onto each other's hands for dear life, and neither one of us spoke. I looked over at Liam to see if he was going to go and he was just staring at the photo of Louis, like he was lost in memories, frozen in time. So, I spoke instead. "As terrible as this day is, all of us are so incredibly lucky to be in this room right now. I can't actually think of the right words to say how honored I am to have been important enough in his life to be here today. There was a time when I don't know if I would have been, I don't think I'd be standing here today, and I didn't realize how happy I was for that time to be over until it just was." Liam squeezed my hand and hung his head.
"I never asked for Louis to be in my life, he just came with the package deal when Liam made friends, but it was like the universe knew that I needed him. He was my calm in every storm, he could make me laugh when I wanted to burn the world down, he was the human equivalent of a smoke break. He calmed you down, settled your nerves, and gave you a minute of peace. He knew me better than I knew myself. He loved me better than I loved myself. I don't want to do this without him again. I miss you, Lou. I love you more than you could have ever known."
Liam kissed the side of my head, cleared his throat, and gave the final speech. "We were the last two to join the friend group, and I remember the first day I met Harry, and the first day I met Niall and Zayn, but I couldn't for the life of me remember the first day that I met Louis. I don't remember our first conversation or the first time we were introduced, the first memory that I have of him is actually not a very good one." Liam laughed and sniffled.
"I was too drunk to function and passed out on the floor at a house party about two weeks after we had moved to Florida. I woke up to Louis calling me a "stupid, heavy, fucking idiot," while he rolled me onto my side. I started to throw up and was choking, he was literally saving my life. I'd known him for a couple of days and he was saving my life. He rolled me over, I puked all over the floor, and he just sat there and laughed at me. He said "you're a fucking mess man, get your ass up, let's go home," and he drove me home. He never brought it up again, never embarrassed me about it, he just let it be. That's the first memory I have of Louis. He was the best of us, truly. I can only hope to be half the friend that he was. My brother, my family, I love you, Lou. I'll see you again someday."
People hung around for a little while, they told stories and had coffee and snacks and shit. They mingled and lingered and then finally, they left. It was time for the burial. The shiny black casket had fingerprints on it now, people kept laying their hands on it to say goodbye to him. I kind of hoped they left them there, left a piece of us with him.
I thought that I was okay, I thought that I was ready enough to walk outside with my people and do this together, but it turned out I was not. I needed a minute. It would take some time to transfer his casket out to the plot so I locked myself in the ladies' room and sat on the counter. I remember thinking that this would be one of those moments where Louis would know just what to say. He would bump my shoulder and light us a cigarette to share and tell me something vague enough that it felt just perfect. Something like "You know I'd never leave you, what the hell would I do all alone out there? It was my time, and that fucking sucks, but you got what you needed from me. You've got this now, you always have. If there's one thing you know how to do it's take care of yourself." Then he would hop off this counter and hold the door open for me, gesturing dramatically for me to get my ass out there. He would whistle behind me while we walked out.
The reality of the situation was that that wouldn't be happening. Louis was gone and I was alone in a bathroom, so I just cried for a bit instead. I cried until Cora knocked and told me they were heading outside. She told me to take my time, they would wait for me. When I finally drug myself off the counter and made it outside I reached for my purse, pulled out my pack of cigarettes, and cried again at the sight of one lonely cigarette waiting there. I couldn't bring myself to smoke it so I shoved it back in my bag and walked out toward the cemetery.
It was a little path out toward the back, there was a brick wall that ran along it and lush greenery all around. Harry did a really good job picking this place, it was beautiful. I knew I'd have a bit of a walk back to Louis' spot but I was okay with walking it alone, I figured it wouldn't be the only time. As I got closer to the entrance though I saw Harry standing in the archway. He was looking up at the brick, his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels.
"Pretty shit day, huh?" He said as I got closer.
"Yeah, I'd say so," I mumbled back to him.
"Can I walk with you? Didn't want you to have to do it alone." He asked while he leaned against one side of the archway, I leaned against the other. I knew my eyes looked just as tired as his. I knew my heart hurt just as bad as his.
"I'd like that," was all I responded. We walked slowly toward the back of the cemetery, there was no rush. Harry's fingers brushed against mine twice before he finally tangled them together in a loose grip. We walked in silence until we finally spotted the group, I couldn't help but notice that our pace slowed.
Graveside burial moved up to the top of my 'I Never Want To Do This Again' list. We all took a few moments to say goodbye again, we cried again. I looked at the pretty flowers on top of his casket, and it just wasn't right. It wasn't Louis enough. So when I said goodbye to him, I slipped the blue pack of menthol cigarettes out of my purse. I slipped my lucky lighter inside next to the last cigarette, the lighter he'd kept for me all those years. Then I closed it, kissed it, and placed it on his coffin.
We stood in a group all huddled together, holding hands and leaning on each other while they lowered him into the ground.
It was the worst day of my life.
At least I thought so then.
Harry rode back with us instead of Zayn, no one spoke the whole drive home, the music just played to a car full of statues. I felt hollow. The only thing that kept me from tumbling out the door was Harry's pinky linked through mine on the leather seat between us.
So much of my stuff was still at Liam's, my head was a mess, my chest was aching, I was sick to my stomach, but somehow I still knew exactly how I was going to answer when we got out of the car and Harry looked down at me to ask, "Would you want to come over?"
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hey, hi, hello
now we heal.
thank you for being here. love you. -mo