Dear Harry,
One week. It's been one week since you left me. No one has heard from you, not even your own mother. What kind of man leaves his loved ones without saying goodbye? A coward. I'm so angry with you, but I will not call you names. I love you too much to do so.
I barely made it past a week, Harry. One bloody week. How am I suppose to handle another?
That was the question with no answer. How was I supposed to handle him being gone for a longer period of time when I had hardly moved in the past seven days?
I glanced over at the clock and yawned in response to the late hour. As I curled my knees to my chest while laying against the mattress, my lonliness slowly knawed at me. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and found Niall's name. He would be upset for the call at this ungodly hour, but I only thought of my selfish needs. When his voice croaked through the speaker, I was overcome with relief.
We spoke for almost an hour, until I felt guilty for keeping him up. He insisted that it was okay and that he loved talking to me, but I thought otherwise. He reminded me of Harry. They were almost alike, and that's why they enjoyede each other's company. When I talked to him, I felt like I was talking to Harry. And I fell asleep smiling that night.