warning: these next few chapters will have triggering topics that people may be sensitive to. if you are not comfortable reading that kind of stuff I am truly sorry but these next few chapters will be based off those topics. read at your own risk. take this chapter and these next few chapters in your own interpretation because explanation ruins everything.
once again, if you are not comfortable with these triggering topics do not read because it is not any of my intentions to make any of you all upset. take this into your own interpretation and if you do proceed to read...
as always, enjoy xx
Harry.
My feet tapped against the cold hard tiled floor of this damned office I was pulled into the second time this week. My hands rested on my lap but my thumbs played endlessly with the sleeves of my sweater that were hiding my hands. My breathing was uneven and came out in heavy pants, I was actually anxious to what Kissinger had to say to me. I knew she would never scold me or put me into shame for what I am but whenever she would call me in a little earlier than I expected, there was always some sort of curiously set on her features every time she's seen me.
So I stayed put in the uncomfortable spinning chair, silently waiting until Kissinger was ready to see me. I was actually nervous if she would ask me how she was doing, since she was clueless to the things I have done to her. Even thinking about her sent a white-hot spear straight through my being, my chest practically caved in at the thought of her and how bad she is taking my sudden separation from her.
Now that I have finally took action into the decisions I have been thinking about for months, our second separation was definitely not what I was expecting it to be. Ever since the night I showed her how much I loved her, I have not caught a single glimpse at her in between classes or even our ironic encounters in the elevator at our apartment complex. I have not heard her soft voice since that night and that voice was exactly what dragged me into this office.
I could barely hear the door knob rattling because although there was no other noise but my heavy breathing, my thoughts were very loud. My hands ran over my face before I sat up straight and saw Ms.Kissinger walk through the door before shutting it behind her and dropping the smile from her face. She sits down, hunches over her desk, and fixes her eyes on me like I'm a suspect she needs to crack.
"What is bothering you, Styles?" Kissinger asks as her arms crossed over her chest before she leaned back in her chair.
"I-I... nothing." I lied.
"Don't come to me with that bullshit." Kissinger announced. A quiet gasp pushed past my lips at her frustrated tone, I knew she was always determined to crack me and make me spill anything that I had bottled up, but I was never used to the way she would talk to me as if I were her friend rather than her client. "Now, would you rather just tell me or have it bottled up inside you for a few more years?"
The thing I liked about Kissinger is that not only is she predictable, she gets to the point.
I stayed quiet, my ears drowning out her words and harsh tone as my mind came back into the usual clouded and dark thoughts. I was not intentionally ignoring her, my mind just could seem to concentrate on anything anymore. I wanted to talk to Kissinger, I wanted to tell her what happened between Ariana and I because I knew she would listen. I wanted to tell her what I think and what I felt every night, I wanted to tell her about the excessive amount of pills I would take every day; but I couldn't. I could never put myself to tell her these things because she was merely a stranger but I definitely was not a stranger to her. She knew almost everything Ariana knew about me, and that scared me. I would have never thought that a stranger would know so much about me yet I knew nothing about them.
"I know what you're going through, Harry. You are not alone. Feel free to speak to me about whatever is bothering you." Kissinger spoke softly, her voice soothing and easing some of the tension built up on my shoulders. Ms Kissinger has always done that. She always used that calm voice of hers and practically begged me to open up to her and somehow, with all my restriction, she always managed to make me spill. I would always leave her office a puddle of fucking tears or completely emotionless, my mind and body too numb to even process half of the things that happened only minutes ago.
"How is Ariana?"
And there it was, she had unknowingly pulled the pin to the grenade and threw it with no caution. She did not know the damage the sound of her name caused me, she was completely clueless to the fact that I had left her the same night I had my appointment here.
Agonizing jolts of heartache ripped through me, enough to tear my being into two and make my breathing stop for a moment. Suddenly it all came back to me, her voice, her sweet scent, her presence, her touch, everything. And I couldn't deny that this was probably the worst pain I've ever felt my whole life. I was a selfish bastard for leaving her while she needed me the most, I left her even when I was the reason she was hurting. I left her because my mind was telling me to, not my heart. All I wanted was the best for her but I couldn't even form a single thought about her without hyperventilating.
My eyes clamped shut as the heartache cleaved through me, ripping straight through my being. My breathing was the heaviest it had been yet, I inhaled quick breaths through my parted lips and let them come out through my nose in uneven pants. Kissinger rushed to my side and I felt her hand on my shoulder as she crouched down to check if I was fine, but I was far from it actually. She knows I stop listening and start to breathe real fast when I am hurting the most, and it didn't take her long to notice.
Ariana always noticed too, she would place her small hand on my chest and tangle her other hand through my hair before she would pull me up to stare at her. She would tell me to breathe steadily and to calm down, but as long as I had her with me I felt as calm as I could be.
But now that she was no where near me, I was breaking all over again. But that was my problem, while I had her I depended on her for happiness, love, hope, trust, everything. And now that I no longer had her, I felt as if all these simple emotions have been sucked out of me or deliberately stolen. I was dependent on her for merely everything and I never realized that once I left her it would hurt this much.
I could barely feel the hot tears welling up in my eyes in attempt to break me all over again, but I couldn't give into it. I couldn't cry after remaining so numb these past couple of days. My chest heaved up and down in heavy breaths and my mind was clouded with dark thoughts of her and everything in between. It was like never before.
"Breathe." Kissinger demanded but her voice was drowned out of my ears again, I couldn't focus on a single thing.
I felt like hitting something, I was angry at myself for letting her go like that. I wanted something to hit me back twice as hard, I couldn't live with myself to even think about the excruciating pain she was being put through when I was with her. I was hurting her, slowly draining her, emotionally killing her.
A heart-wrenching sob ripped from my throat, the hot tears finally spilling from my eyes and landing on my cheeks before rolling down and hitting the soft fabric of my t-shirt. The turmoil of dark heavy thoughts and emotions stirred inside me as I had finally reached my breaking point. I was finally enduring the pain I had held in for days now. I drew out a deep breath and tried to still my tears, but the slight shaking of my limbs and the tight burning and closing of my throat made it seem impossible to do so.
It had seemed like hours that I had been sobbing uncontrollably while Kissinger watched me with a saddened expression set on her features. She was witnessing me feel the pain I had been holding in all this time, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. It was until I had said something, my throat unbelievably dry and tight as I spoke the words I had felt from the start.
"It's all my fault." I broke out in between heavy breaths.
"It's not you're fault, you did this for the better." Kissinger replied as quickly as she could before I blocked her out again.
"I-I... hurt her," I sobbed, the pain in my tone stealing the volume in my voice.
"You're slowly fixing yourself, Harry. I am sure she understands that your decisions were made with good intentions and for the better for the both of you." She spoke softly, making sure to be optimistic about this whole mess. "Do not blame this on yourself."
"I l-let her go and now I will never see her again," I cried out.
My body hurt all over, it was as if the heartache was slowly spreading all over my body until it had consumed my senses and completely taken over. Every breath I drew in burned as my lungs expanded with heavy breaths. My throat was dry and croaky and the tears staining my cheeks seemed never ending. I was broken, so utterly broken without Ariana.
I felt, and knew I was, awfully weak crying in front of someone is merely a stranger to me. I felt selfish for leaving her and ending up just as hurt as she is. Every loss and struggle that has been thrown at me has finally creeped back into my thoughts and broke me. And for once, I let the pain sear a hole straight through my being. I felt her all over, her hand in mine, her full lips pressed so gently against mine, her chest pressed tightly against mine, her thighs spread on either side of my hips, and her hot breath fanning against my face. I couldn't breathe. I hypothetically had her all around me, practically suffocating me.
"I need to go." I choked out in between sobs. My shaky hands rose to wipe away any of the moisture on my cheeks and in the corners of my eyes before I jolted up to my feet.
I tried to walk to the door, my lungs and legs burned as I used every ounce of strength in me to haul myself over to the closed door. My vision was blurry and my mind was racing. I had no where to go, I had no one to be with. I had lost my best friend and my girlfriend; the people who mattered most to me. I had lost the respect from my best friend and the love from my girlfriend. I had absolutely nobody but myself to grieve in my true loneliness.
My hands furiously wiped at my eyes and reached before me in attempt to find the door handle but to no avail. The upcoming tears welling in my eyes blurred my vision and now it was practically impossible to see through it all. My mind was a whirling mess and I was sure that if I did not calm down I would surely pass out.
I needed to take a seat, but I did not want Kissinger to see me cry more than I already was. I couldn't breathe, I felt all four walls surrounding me closing up and squishing me whole. I couldn't think, my mind was too caught up in the faded memories of Ariana. I couldn't see, the tears welling up in my eyes were blurring my vision. I felt dizzy although I was not spinning. I just wanted it all to stop spinning.
Minutes turned into hours and I was sure I was having a mental breakdown. It could have been seconds that I was standing weakly by the door, but those seconds dragged on and on and felt like hours. It could have been hours that I was practically on my knees sobbing by the door because my mind and body were too weak to even move a muscle. All I knew was that this pain was like never before, it was ripping my being into two and repeatedly searing holes straight through my chest.
It was as if in the speed of lightening my thoughts could form a peaceful memory into a mess that couldn't be fixed. And this was it, this was the mess that could never be fixed.
In a blink of an eye I was gently sat back down on my previous spot of the spinning chair and my body was hunched over. My elbows dug deep into my thighs and the heels of my hands were pressed tightly against my eye sockets. I refused to let Kissinger, or any else, see me breaking.
I knew Ms.Kissinger saw this mental breakdown with merely every single one of her patients but I felt that this case was much worse. Every cell of my body was being torn into pieces and my heart was paper thin. I was hurting all over. It was getting bad again.
I felt like throwing something again, I felt like drowning myself in alcohol to numb all the pain that had built up in me my whole life, I felt like walking into upcoming traffic all at once. I knew my old self would have thought these thoughts were terrifying but now as I thought about the after life I was not scared. I was not terrified. I did not feel a thing. I was numb.
And that was what caused my mind to whirl all over again. I was finally not terrified of my own thoughts, I felt as if these thoughts were normal. I felt that if one day, if I left this world in the most unnoticed way possible, I would finally be at peace.
The emptiness filling my chest was unbearable at this point, and I was sure that if I ended it all I would not mind. I knew something was wrong with me but I could not admit it to myself or Kissinger even if she already knew. The fact is, I was sick, but not in an easily explained flu kind of way. It's my experience that people are a lot more sympathetic if they can see you hurting.
Fortunately, our hour session has come to an end and it was time for me to head back home or wherever the hell I could crash to avoid any encounters with Ariana because I knew that if I saw her again all my previous attempts to remain strong would break. Before I left Ms.Kissinger reminded me to take my prescribed daily medication to help me, but the truth was that even if I took those damned pills I would remain as dark as I usually am. Those fucking pills were only temporary and if I ever forgot to take them surely all hells would break loose.
She also reminded me that it took everything to come crashing down to know what true happiness felt like, she's here, I can talk to her whenever I would like, her door is always open, and that I am not alone. Actually I am, which is a part of the problem; we all are alone, trapped in these bodies and our minds, and whoever we have company in this life is only fleeting and superficial.
But before I could leave, she called out for me before pulling me into a uncomfortable but relieving embrace. Her arms wrapped loosely around my neck as mine slung lazily behind her for a few seconds before I pulled back. Right as I was about to exit the small office I was trapped in for an hour, her hand gripped my wrist before she yanked me back.
"Don't take this out on yourself like you always do, make sure to talk to somebody about this."
That's the thing, I had nobody to talk to.
"You can't end it here because this is just the beginning, you can't give up now, Harry. Think about everyone else around you before taking action into things you might regret in the near future." It was funny that she was speaking as if I had plenty of things to live for. "And for Christ's sake, stay alive."
The thing I don't say is I want to stay alive. The reason I don't want to say it is, given the dark circles beneath her eyes, she'd never believe it. And here's something else she'd never believe: I'm fighting to be in this shitty, messed up world. Taking pills was not about dying, it was about having control. It was about never being suicidal again.
And after what felt like years, I was no longer scared. This should have caused my stomach to churn and my mind to whirl, but I was no longer terrified of death; the afterlife. For once, I felt if everything had ended at this moment I was okay with it all. I would have absolutely no regrets.