August 15
Louis' POV
It's been almost a month since I moved into Liam's. And almost three weeks since I quit footie.
I won't lie and say things have been great. They haven't, Not in the slightest. But they have been better. As much as I hate to admit it, stopping football has really taken the pressure off and quieted the thoughts. They're still there, don't get me wrong, but they're quieter. Because I don't have to worry about running the fastest mile or kicking the most goals or burning the most calories.
I can just relax for once, which is something I haven't allowed myself to do in a really long time.
The guilt still lingers at times, though. I would be surprised if it didn't. But playing tennis helps. Its good to know I'm not totally inactive. We go two or three times a week, and it helps me get my energy out.
Over time, Eating has gotten a lot easier too. I've been really pushing myself to go out to eat with the guys. We made it a tradition to go to Nando's every Friday after tennis.
It's nice to eat with my friends because I am usually having so much fun I forget about the guilt. I also don't feel so bad knowing they're eating the same stuff as me. Last week, I was feeling so much better I almost got dessert, but I chickened out after a few bites.
Better than nothing though, right?
The one thing that is still a bloody nightmare is my body image, and I honestly don't know if that's ever gonna get better. I know it's fucked up, but it kind of helps not being around Harry so much anymore. Because all I wanted in the world was to look good for him- like seriously good, ripped and fit. And it's pretty clear that I can't do that right now, at least not without hurting myself.
Honestly, it's easier to just be alone with my gross body, to just keep it to myself. I'm trying to work on getting my confidence up so that when I finally move back in with Haz, things won't be so much of a disaster in the bedroom. I'm sure he's tired of trying to convince me that I look good. I'm sure I've broken his heart too many times to count with my self-loathing, with my awful comments about my body.
It has to stop. I know it does, and I've been trying to fix things. I've been trying to "accept" my body, and I almost have. I've come to terms with the fact that I won't have abs again, that my thigh gap isn't coming back. I know I can't be thin right now- that it's not healthy for me. I didn't realize it before, but I realize it now: my health should be my number one priority. And not just physical, but mental too.
As much as I try to dent it, the truth is I feel like shit when I'm thin. I'm depressed, miserable, aching in pain. My hair falls out, my skin bruises easily. My joints hurt, I get heart palpitations. I don't want that again. I really don't. The voice in my head wants that - she wants it more than anything. But I don't want to get sick again, and that's what I have to keep focusing on.
Today, as I gather my phone and wallet, I try to keep these thoughts in mind to prepare myself for my date with Harry. With crazy work deadlines and busy schedules, it's been quite a while since Harry and I went on a real date night together. Sure, we will go on lunch break together at the office or I'll see him at tennis, but it's been a while since we've hung out alone.
I want to shave a bit before I leave, but just as I'm headed to the bathroom, I hear a knock on the door. I rush over to it, ready to tackle Harry and cover his face with kisses. But to my surprise, it's Liam.
"Hey!" I say, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing knocking?"
"Forgot My key," Liam says, heading inside. He's holding a bag of groceries and I resist the urge to sort through it and look at the calorie content of each of the foods. I can't keep doing that kind of shit... it's just bad for me...
"That's uncharacteristic of you," I say, checking my phone for a text from Harry.
"Slept over Andres' last night. Finally just getting home," Liam replies, blushing as he loads the fridge with the groceries.
"Ohh, did you get it on?" I ask. I raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs.
"Maybe. Just found out he eats ass," Liam says, his face twisting in a promiscuous smile.
"Holy shit! Even I don't do that," I say, slapping him on the back playfully.
A little while later, I hear a knock at the door and jog over to it, adjusting my navy shorts. "I think that's Harry!"
When I open the door to Harry's smiling face, I wave goodbye to Liam and jog out.
"You look cute," Harry says, kissing my lips softly. I kiss back and wrap an arm around his waist, smiling up at him.
"Thanks!" I reply.
"Is that a new shirt? I love it," Harry says as we make our way downstairs.
"Yeah," I reply. "Liam and I went shopping the other day."
Harry nods, but I can see the pain in his face. I think back to the time we went shopping together, how I was sobbing in the dressing room. How he was trying to desperately to get me to calm down but couldn't.
Im glad that it's not like that now. I still feel like shit, but not as deeply depressed about my body image as I was before. I'm getting better. Or at least I hope I am.
"Where are we going?" I ask, swinging Harry's hand as we head down to the subway.
"Wherever you want," Harry replies. I tuck a curl behind his ear, taking in his emerald eyes and chiseled jaw.
"You're so sexy, Harry," I breathe, whispering into his ear. I kiss his neck and he closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation.
"Lets At least do something before we go home and Fuck," Harry says back, in a hoarse voice.
"Mmm, okay," I pout, pulling away. "Have you eaten?"
Harry shakes his head and I check my phone for restaurant recommendations. Harry leans on the side of a building, pulling me onto his chest and rubbing my shoulders and I browse.
"Thai food good? There's a place two stops away," I suggest.
"Perfect," Harry replies.
One subway ride later, we arrive at the restaurant. Decorated with glass statues and a large fountain, the restaurant looks a bit fancier than I expected, but im excited to spend time with Harry nonetheless.
"Do you like Thai food?" Harry asks, taking a peak at the menu.
"Never had it," I admit. "Kinda just got panicked and picked something at random."
Harry looks up at me, half smiling. "You could have taken your time, Lou."
"I was a bit distracted by someone's beautiful face," I chuckle. "Seriously, I've missed you."
"Missed you too," Harry says, softly. "I feel bad we haven't had much time together... just been busy...."
Busy. His voice breaks off as he says it and I can't help but wonder if he's telling the truth. I've been asking him for ages if something was wrong, and he keeps denying it. But ever since he rushed out of Nando's after our first tennis practice, he's been acting distant.
"Haz," I say, leaning over the table and pushing his menu down. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Harry shrugs and shakes his head. "No. What do you mean?"
"I mean, you've been acting distant lately. Like... are you upset about something?" I ask gently.
He stares at me, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinks. "I'm not sure...." he begins. "I, um. It's stupid."
"Nothing is stupid," I say, brushing my finger across his hand. "Why are you shutting me out? Why do I never see you lately?"
"It's just..." Harry stops to take a sip of water. "I think I need you more than you need me."
"How's that?" I ask. I sink my teeth into my lower lip and cock my head to the side.
"I just... I have always been really attached to the people I care about," he says. "I just rely on you I guess. For happiness. Like, without you home I've been really lonely and I guess I can't handle being on my own."
"Oh... well, I'm sorry you feel that way Harry," I reply. "It's not your fault, though. What did you do before me? You lived alone then."
Harry blushes, his eyes widening. "Well, it didn't go well. I lived with Eliza. Then when we broke up, I spent most of my time trying to win her back. Cried a lot..."
"Oh," I reply. Eliza. The name sends painful waves of envy shooting through my stomach. She was so bad for Harry, yet he was so obsessed with her.... and that didnt really ever end until recently.
"I didnt mean it like that," Harry says, noticing how upset I am. "You know by the end I was getting over her, and I am completely now. I just don't know how to be alone, I guess."
"Makes sense," I reply. "Yeah, i wasn't doing too well on my own either, as you already know. It's good to have someone holding me accountable, at least somewhat."
"Exactly," Harry says. "That's Exactly what I'm trying to say."
"Oh, are you like... do you mean, youre...." I start. I hope to fucking hell he's not cutting. I should have been checking up on him more...
"No," Harry says as he shakes his head. "No, Nothing major at least. Don't keep accusing me of doing that, Louis. I should be asking you what you're doing over there at Liam's."
"What the Fuck?" I say, slamming my hand on the table. The impact is harder than I expected and I spill the water, sending most of it onto Harry's lap.
"Nice job," he says, rolling his eyes as he sops it up.
"What did you mean by that?" I ask, handing him a napkin.
"What did you mean by What you said?" Harry says, folding his arms on his chest.
"I just meant, are you being safe? That's all. There's no reason to get so hostile," I scoff.
"I was asking the same thing," Harry replies with a shrug. He makes a pouty face and rolls his eyes at me, shifting in his seat a bit.
"Harry, honestly, if you're gonna act like this we should just go home. Because you gave me a lot of attitude and I don't appreciate that," I snap. "I'm doing well at Liam's. I would tell you if I wasn't."
"Okay, okay, sorry," Harry says. "Sorry, Im just... I am being rude, and I apologize."
"Yeah, but you've been giving me an attitude a lot lately, like in the parking lot at Nando's the other week.... what's up with you?" I ask.
"Nothing," Harry says. "Just stressed with James and work and stuff. And like I said, I miss you. Like a lot."
I nod, unsure what to say to that. I guess I could offer to move back in with him. Technically, I could. But I've been making so much progress at Liam's. I feel like moving again will just throw me off and ruin my progress.
"Honey, you can literally see me whenever you want," I say, smoothing my palm over his arm. "And I can watch James if you need alone time and we can work together on the work projects. If you're struggling, don't shut me out, baby, let me in."
Harry nods, but his face begins to tense up and I can already sense that he's going to cry. I rush over to the booth next to him, and wrap my arms around him, allowing him to burrow his face on my shoulder.
"What is it? What's wrong?" I whisper softly, as I stroke his back.
"I'm just the worst boyfriend ever," he whimpers. "You're too good for me."
"Haz, hey," I say. I cup his face in my palms and lock eyes with him. "Please don't say that, honey. You're not."
"But I am. Like here you are doing well at Liam's and I'm so selfish that I'm getting jealous of your friendship. And I wish you could just come back," he says. "Babe, I suck."
"Hey, it's okay to feel that way, Harry. It's not wrong to miss me," I reply. The waitress starts to come over, but I raise my index finger, letting her know we need a minute.
"No, Lou. It is wrong. Because I'm treating you like shit right now," Harry cries into my shoulder. "I'm shutting you out and being passive aggressive. And I'm trying to stop but I keep making myself more upset."
I pet his hair, shaking my head. "It's okay. I can handle it. I just want to know what's going on with you. You know you can tell me."
"It's just -- I guess I feel abandoned. Like Eliza walked out on me. You walked out on me. I just drive people away because I'm overbearing and not sensitive enough, and I'm just sick of it," he moans.
His face is red and blotchy and people are starting to look over at our table now, but I don't even care. My job right now is to comfort Harry, and it doesn't matter what other people think.
"Honey, I didn't walk out. I just needed space. You didn't drive me away. I'm still here. I still love you just the same. And you're so sensitive," I coo, petting his back. "You're the reason I'm here, honestly, Harry. Your kindness and sensitivity is what got me through."
Harry shakes his head, pulling away from me. "No. I caused this mess. You deserve better. I should just go."
"Haz, please, let me take you home at least," I say, standing up and following after him.
"No," Harry shouts. He starts rushing out of the restaurant and I start to jog towards the exit, but I'm too slow.
Please, please, don't let him do anything dangerous, I think to myself. Please.
When I get outside, I look to my left and then to my right, but Harry is nowhere to be found. I hear footsteps around the corner on my left and I head towards them.
As I round the corner, I see Harry in the middle of the parking lot, on his hands and knees. Is he....? He's throwing up.
"Harry, babe, are you okay?" I ask as I make my way towards him.
He wipes his mouth and looks up at me with a manic stare, unanswering.
Honestly, I'm not even sure how to react. I've never seen him like this before. He tries to get up and clean himself off, but begins to stumble back to the concrete. That's when I realize he's wheezing, gasping for air, his eyes flying open as he claws at the fabric of his collar.
"Can you breathe? Are you okay?" I ask, putting a hand on his back. It seems like he needs an inhaler or something, but I have no idea where to get one or what to do.
"Need meds," Harry manages to squeak between breaths. He points to his pocket and I help him take out a small plastic bag of what looks like Xanax.
"Oh, shit, is this a panic attack?" I ask, handing him a pill.
Harry nods and takes the pill, though it doesn't seem to help much, at least not yet. I try to calm him down by rubbing his back and arms and taking deep breaths of my own for him to emulate. Eventually, his breathing slows and he sits upright, staring at me.
"I'm so fucking embarrassed," he says, his voice hoarse from wheezing.
"Baby, you've seen me in darker moments. It's okay. Did this just start happening? Why didn't you tell me?" I ask as I kneel next to him.
"For a few weeks now," he replies looking at the floor. "They think it's the result of the trauma from Eliza. Or something like that. I'm sorry."
"No need to be sorry. Don't ever be sorry. You know it's not your fault, Haz? You know that," I say, wrapping my arms around him. "That's what you always tell me. That it's not my fault. It's illness."
"I know but... I just want to be normal for you," Harry says. He's starting to shake now, and his eyes are full of tears. He's so close to crying, but he doesn't. He just looks at me with those big green eyes and all I can do is look back with watery eyes as well.
Without saying anything, I let him know that I feel the same way too. That I am so tired of being sick. That I want, more than anything, to be normal for Harry. Normal for the both of us.
That I want to be okay again.
a/n: thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this. this story is so important to me and I hope you are all enjoying it. :D
I also just wanted to share a quick message that I have posted on one of my other fics in the authors notes. It's something that has been bothering me this week and it's made me want to really speak up about some of my experiences. Here it goes:
So I'm not sure if anyone is a Demi Lovato fan, but you've probably heard of her hospitalization for a potential drug overdose. I honestly don't even know what to trust because the facts keep changing and the media sucks but I will say this:
Demi is one of the rare few celebrities who uses her platform to share her personal experiences about mental health. We should all be grateful for her honesty and bravery. Very few people have the courage to speak up about their mental health issues and I'm so thankful that she does.
Honestly, I cannot even put into words how much her voice and her story have helped me through the years. This Larry story does not have a strong focus on mental health (the majority of my other stories do) but I do mention it from time to time. Like Harry in this story, I struggled with an eating disorder and exercise obsession as a young teenager.
I remember for years thinking nobody on the face of the planet was feeling the way I was feeling. I thought I was the only one going through mental health issues, and I was completely ashamed because of it. No one in my town or community spoke about mental health. Ever. It was completely unheard of and taboo. So I struggled in silence.
For years, I felt like a freak. But one day, I remember listening to Demi's music and hearing her share about her experiences with mental health issues (addiction, bulimia, self-harm and bipolar disorder). I couldn't believe that someone so famous could be so open about their struggles, and I was blown away completely.
As I listened to her music and watched her story, I finally realized that I wasn't the only one. That other people were struggling too. And it was completely okay to feel that way. And that if she had the strength to get help and fight her demons, maybe I could do it too.
When I heard the news about her hospitalization the other day, I was overcome with emotion. I couldn't stop refreshing the page to see if she was alright. And thank god she ended up being okay. I am sickened by the things I have seen on social media and the complete exploitation of the situation by senseless reporters who don't have their facts straight. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what drug she took. It doesn't matter how it happened.
What matters is that addiction is a disease. And a having a disease is not a choice. It's not attention seeking or acting out or making bad decisions. It's a disorder of the mind and we should start treating it like that.
I will stand by Demi - and others like her - no matter the circumstances. She has always been a warrior, activist, and a hero to so many young people across the country, and that will not stop just because she is struggling again. No one is perfect, and she should not be demonized or torn down for going through something difficult.
She is in my thoughts and prayers, always. As dramatic as it might sound, she saved my life.
Love always,
Sam