Sophie,
You're behind the door right now. I've been sitting out here for the last 3 hours and I don't know what to do or where to go. You're on one side of the door and I'm on the other and it's all my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I completely lost it and I wasn't even myself and I shouldn't have raised my voice. I lied about the girl. I'm not going to see her, she's not even real. I didn't plan to end up sitting outside your door for hours either, but I can't make myself leave. There's so much that I should've told you and I didn't because I was too scared. Now, I realise that I've lost you. I'm finding it really fucking hard to not just walk through your door with the key in my hand and tell you everything. But, that's not what you want.
What do you want me to do? I'm just so tired. I can't pay attention to anything lately without feeling like my head is going to explode, and I probably shouldn't be writing this right now but I need to. I've been nothing but a fuck up lately. I can't think straight. I'm crying and shaking and all the lights seem so bright. I should be able to just accept you don't want me, but I can't do that without throwing up everything in my empty stomach. I'm a mess when you're not here, but I'm even worse than usual right now.
It's cold and I just want to sleep but I never seem to get a spare minute, and then I can't sleep when I try. Can I be honest? I didn't sleep at all last night and I'm not sleeping tonight until I can talk to you in the morning. Please just let me talk to you. The wall is really fucking cold but I can't feel much of it. I don't even know what I'm thinking anymore, but I just don't want to sleep.
I've had so much that I've needed to say to you that I couldn't get out. But now, you're so hurt and angry and I can't stop myself from wishing I could just be the guy you want. I guess you know that writing is what I do when I'm trying to work through something, so that's what I'm attempting to do. I guess I'm compensating for the fact that I can't actually talk to you by writing it down as though you'll read it. I even went back to my car and got the book I write in for this.
I could say that I regret falling in love with you, but the truth is that I don't. You've taught me to feel and love and so many other things. Now, it's all gone, and I hope all the effort you put into me won't go to waste.
I tried, I really did, to be who you want, but it's so hard when I am who I am. I'm so incredibly flawed, and so fucking toxic. You deserve someone who will be able to tell you how he's feeling and someone who can cope with not wanting to kill whoever you fall in love with and marry, knowing it's not going to be him. I've said it in my songs but I haven't said it to you, I'm jealous and I'm selfish.
You kept talking about this girl and I had no idea what you meant, but I guessed it was probably something in the media, so I googled it. A photo of me and a girl and it looks like I'm all over her and kissing her. I swear to you, that's not what it is. I did this to myself though, and it's not your fault you believe it. I'm such a fucking idiot. I love you, I hope you know that.
I want to explain that I wasn't doing what it looks like I was doing, but I don't know where to start and my head fucking hurts and it just sounds like a lie. I don't know how, when, or why that photo got out, but it's so far from what it looks like. The girl in the picture is Niall's cousin, and I've known her since the X Factor. She's in America right now and Niall invited her into the studio, and I was saying hello. I think the camera just got it at the wrong time, but I know what it looks like, and I sure as hell wouldn't believe myself. You can't see it from the photo, but it was all just completely friendly. She's like a sister. I swear I'll get you the security camera footage if you want it.
You've done so much for me since the day you walked into that room for your interview, but if you could please do one more thing for me, and just believe that I didn't cheat on you, then maybe I'll be alright. I need to know that you don't think I did that. Please just tell me you know that.
I've been a dick lately, and I can see that you started becoming used to it. It wasn't a surprise when I came home late or when I got angry and didn't talk to you. That hurt me the most. Seeing that you accepted it, and watching you still care so deeply for someone who didn't deserve you and who couldn't even hold you when he heard you crying in the bedroom. He did hear you, and he doesn't deserve you.
I can't give this shitshow of a letter to you, so I don't even know why I'm writing it. You hate me, and honestly, I'm starting to really hate myself. Don't pity me though, I don't need that. You deserve to show that beautiful smile of yours every moment of every day and I'm totally responsible for taking it away. I ruined myself and pulled you down with me. For that and for everything, I'm sorry.
I wore your beanie the whole time you were gone. I slept on your side of the bed too, I hope you don't mind. I guess you won't even ever know. It smelt like you and it made me feel closer to you.
You know when you kiss my nose? That's my favourite thing you do.
I'm all yours and it's killing me that we've run out of time. I know the final straw was that photo, which isn't what it looks like, but this was inevitable. You put up with me for long enough. I'm jealous, scared to be vulnerable, selfish, and sometimes probably treat people with way too much kindness that it makes me a pushover. I'm toxic and I've fucked up, and I love you but I just don't think that's enough. Maybe it never was enough, but I let myself believe it was enough for too long.
I haven't told you that you're my forever yet, but I want you to know that I've known it all along.
Do you remember when I showed you the Woman demo when we were in Jamaica? I was in the studio and I came out to find you and show you, and you were sitting at the table facetiming your boyfriend. I never understood why you came to Jamaica when you had a boyfriend back in L.A. For a second I thought maybe I should let you talk to him, but the selfish and jealous part of me took over. I knew it meant you'd have to call him back later, but I asked anyway. I knew he wouldn't be happy about it, and I couldn't help but look at the annoyance on his face when you told him you'd have to go. When you said goodbye to him, he called you 'babe', and I could tell you didn't like it.
When you want to hide how you feel, you smile. That's just what you do, but your eyes always give it away. So, I could tell that you hated being called 'babe'. Now that it is..or it was, you and me and not you and him, I've never called you anything but Sophie, scared you'd feel the same way about any other name. But, in my head, I've always just thought of you as my angel. For the first time, I let it slip tonight when I was yelling that you're my angel, and when you spat it back in my face like it meant nothing, it felt like you were throwing me away, and throwing us away and throwing it all away, and I completely lost my shit. And I know you didn't know so it's not your fault, but I gave up when you said that. And that's why I said the thing about going to see my other girlfriend. She doesn't exist, she won't ever exist and I hate that I could get so angry to say something like that.
I've done a lot of soul searching since the days I would purposely try to piss off your boyfriend. That's not who I am anymore, but I'm not far from it. I'm still arrogant, toxic and narcissistic, and part of me loves that you don't know that, because then you don't see my flaws. But I realise now that I wish I let you learn every part of me, because maybe you wouldn't care that I'm flawed. You wanted, actually I think you even craved, to see all of me. Is that narcissistic? I know I'm ruining you, but it's ripping me apart that it means I'm going to be without you.
I walked out of the studio yesterday and went to therapy. Management is telling me I've lost focus on work and I'm distracted, but I've learnt to block out their voices. I felt like I was losing control and I couldn't physically hold it all in anymore, so I had to leave, and I went to the only place I could think of. My therapist told me that I need to stop internalising everything, much like what you've said to me. I talk so passionately about opening up to people how being open allows you to become closer with others, but I've done the exact opposite, and now I'm paying the price. I got in my own way. Actually, after my therapy visit was when I arrived back at the studio and that photo was taken. I guess you don't care.
This morning I felt worse, so I just walked out of the studio and sat in my car. I wasn't gone for long, but I copped it when I got back. Leslie told me I was going to regret leaving and pay for it, but I'm already paying for this, and I don't think she could come up with something worse.
Management has been telling me for weeks now that they want me to be photographed on dates with other people and for us to deny anything about a relationship. The thought alone repulses me, and that's why I didn't tell you. I just didn't want you to hear it. I know I should've told you, but I was scared. I'm always so scared, angel.
Apart from the last two days, I've barely been leaving the studio. I spend hours on end writing and recording, and I'm starting to lose my voice. They said they like the rasp, so they're making me sing more. I feel like I've lost all my ability to write songs too, and it feels like shit.
I'm constantly pissed off. I don't know why, but the smallest thing will just set me off. I got into a fight with Louis a few days ago, and I haven't spoken to him since. I can't really remember what it was about and I just walked out in the end. I feel like I'm always 'on' and I can't get a break. My brain is so foggy, all the time.
I was going to call you after I walked out because I needed to hear your voice, but I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me. I listened to all the voice memos of you that I've recorded instead.
When you're smiling, there's a clear change in the way you sound when you speak. It's higher, and I don't know how else to explain it, but the sound is just different. I could hear the smile in your voice from all the memos I had, but I was struggling to remember what was happening when I recorded them, and I was so angry at myself that I couldn't remember. I had a migraine all day after that, but they wouldn't let me go home. Said I needed to make up for the lost time I spent arguing with Louis.
I want you to know, and I think you deserve to know, that on the first day at the studio management shut down one of my songs. It was the day that you got interviewed by that paparazzi guy and you made me go for a run when we got home, I think. I didn't tell you what was wrong all day, but you knew something was off. I could tell I was hurting you by not sharing, but I just couldn't admit it. I'm a horrible person for always putting myself before you. They shut the song down because the writing was too 'raw', and I just didn't take it well. The reason it was so raw was because it was about you. Music is the only place where being vulnerable comes easy, and it hurt that they didn't like my first song on the first day.
Maybe you don't remember, but when we were in Sydney, the night that I told you how I felt, I went on a date. It was my last attempt at forgetting about my feelings for you and obviously it didn't work. I left early, claiming Jeff wanted me back to go over some stuff for the second Sydney show. Jeff is a grandpa and would've been well asleep by then, but I just needed to get out. When I got back to the hotel, I was so certain at that point that I was never going to be able to get over you, so I started writing about how I felt. It was probably the most lyrically open I've been, but I ended up telling you anyway. Then, I found what I'd written in the book months later, when we were at the studio.
I liked the idea of possibly including the song on this album. I've learnt that including both lighter tracks and sadder ones creates a more diverse sound in the record, so I started adding more to it during the first writing session, and then it got shut down. That's why I cut you out on that first day. Because it hurt that they didn't like our song.
My way of coping with conflict in my life is to try and block it by pretending it doesn't exist. But, you could see something was wrong and you wanted to know, but I couldn't see it because I'm so stubborn. I also didn't want to admit there were problems in my life, so I hid in hopes that if you didn't see, you wouldn't know and then the problems wouldn't exist.
When I'm doing shows and appearances and other stuff, it feels like I'm owned by everyone. Sometimes, I feel like I'm public property. But as soon as I'm with you, I'm all yours and you don't have to share me. I don't want to share you with anyone either, and I felt like I had started sharing you with the world. Everything wonderful about you wasn't just my little secret anymore. That's selfish, but it's true. You were invited to Paris Fashion Week and were out creating your own success, and I felt like I'd lost you and you were moving on from me. It's such a fucked logic, and a terrible way to think. I know I'm so selfish, but that's why I thought you liked Niall and it was another way you were moving on from me. I should have never even let myself think something like that. Maybe then we wouldn't be here.
In part, I think it's all the stuff that I was being fed at work. I should've just got my shit together and told you, but I was so scared. I'm not really even sure what I was scared about. Everything I was being told was skewed and twisted, and it didn't help that sometimes you didn't come into the studio or you'd leave early. Of course I want you to be able to live your own life, so I suggested you don't come in a few times, but there were other times when you left or didn't come in. It made me think it's because you were too busy doing other, more important things. Which I'm sure you were, and that's what you should be doing. You have so much potential to do so much good, not involving organising my calendar. You graduated from fucking Columbia University with honours, and you were going to do a PhD and I stopped you from that. It's a waste of so much talent, but I was just too selfish to let you go, in fear you wouldn't come back. You are so much more than just an assistant, and my insecurities about it ruined me. I was just scared that you'd leave me behind.
I just had a coughing fit all over the page, so I'm definitely not giving it to you now. I also know how sorry for myself I sound, and I know you're so selfless that you'll find some reason to blame yourself for it. Even though I've clearly detailed every reason I'm a fuckup. I can't give something like this to you, because I've caused you enough pain already.
I only just remembered that you sent me a text when you were away and I never responded. How could I forget that? I keep forgetting fucking everything.
The band was at such a high when we left last time, and we all had these great, successful solo careers, so coming back, I guess I just don't want to let anyone down. I'm scared to be that boy band that got back together and were never as good as they once were, and let down everyone who so passionately supported us. In the end, I can sing a song, but I can't manage a band, so I put my faith in others who can, even if I know I'm being a pushover by not standing up for myself. I know what's going on is fucked, but I'm so incredibly scared that we're not going to be good enough. Everything that happened with Modest last time was wrong, but they made us produce what people wanted, and I have a crippling fear of not being good enough if we change it now.
When I was solo I learnt to not let that type of stuff bother me and just produce what I want to, regardless of what people think, but it feels harder now it's not just me. Like if I fuck up as a solo artist, well it's just me fucking up, so does it really matter? But if I do it to the boys and cause a shitstorm for some rubbish reason, then I bring them all down with me.
My hand keeps shaking. I don't plan to give this to you, but it feels better if I pretend you're going to read it. I got my hopes up while writing this, but I know I've made my bed. I've made it, and I'm so scared to lie in it. Maybe one day I'll give this to you once I've sorted all my shit out, and you'll have a husband who isn't me, and have the family you described to me, but even then, I'll love you just as much as I love you now. You have stood by me through my best and my worst, and my lowest and my highest, and I want you to know I'll never forget that.
I love you and I think I love that that feeling never leaves me. I love that you're always with me. A day from now, a year from now, or 5 years from now, when I'm just a distant memory to you, I think you'll always be with me. You're my constant, my home, and my everything and I'm so sorry I fucked up and couldn't be that for you.
I've said sorry a lot in this, but I find it hard to say sorry in real life when my exact actions are staring me right in front of my face. Maybe that's part of what ruined us. Because I couldn't tell you that I'm sorry.
I just checked my phone and it's 7. I think that means I've been writing this for 3 hours. That's excessive for something that I'll probably just rip up anyway, but I'm not sleeping.
Amongst many other beautiful things, you've shown me how many flaws I have in myself. I'm wondering if it's worth fixing them if you're not there for it. I guess it is, because maybe you'll be proud of me for it. I should fix them for myself too. I want to be better.
The biggest thing I've learnt since you left is that love is big and scary. Much like a monster under the bed. When I was young I found myself scared of the monsters, but they fascinated me too. The thought of seeing the monster scared me so much that sometimes I'd cry, but I couldn't help myself checking to see if he was there. Against my better judgement and my fear, I'd peer under my bed, almost every night, to see if I could catch a glimpse of him. See what he felt like, looked like, and maybe, if I was lucky, he would be friendly. I've realised that you're the driving force behind my curiosity to look under the bed nowadays. You're far from a monster, but I'm still the little boy that looked under his bed, completely captivated by the opportunity to see the monster. Only now, it's captivated by love and not a monster. I want you, and only you, to be under the bed, even though that little boy is so scared that you'll break his heart.
You have broken his heart, but he doesn't blame you. He'll always love his angel.
Harry