This Time I'm Ready To Run.

Just Like Shattered Glass

Losing someone feels terrible.

Whether that’s by death or maybe just because they need to leave. Sometimes you lose yourself. But for today, Harry’s the one leaving.

I won’t be able to see that beaming smile of his or those crystal, emerald eyes even the way eats with his tongue first, the things that make me happier than ever. I won’t be seeing him until the end of July, in 2 months.

I feel like we’ve had no time, but I guess three months is plenty.

I’ve been awake for around an hour now, I don’t know if Harry knows. I feel slightly hungover from last night, but I don’t really regret it. I’ve taken some painkillers and that’s all I can do. I’ve only had around 5 and a half hours of sleep, but I feel okay considering this.

Today he’s going to Japan. He has a day there before he has to perform. So It’s nice to know he’ll have some time to himself where he doesn’t need to do anything. He’ll also be missing my birthday. It’s okay as it’s not a big deal but I thought it would’ve been nice.

I promised to call and message him.

Yesterday, he told me to run away with him, to leave all this behind. Yesterday, he told me I make him happy. I still remember exactly what he told me, even though I was drunk.

“Come with me on tour, Blossom. Runaway. Let go.”

“You make me happy, you know that?”

“Thank you for being my somebody, love.”

I still remember the feel of his hair, or how he looked at me. The way he smiled. How he-

“Good morning, love,” I smile at him while he makes his way to the kettle. “You’re drooling.” He laughs. “I’m leaving in an hour and a half,”

Don’t remind me.

He walks up and leans the island so he’s opposite me. “I’m going to miss you,” He frowns. I smile once again as he rolls his lips in, looking directly at my lips. “I’m not going to be there,” He says. I can hear his guilt. “I’m going to miss your birthday,” He jokes.

“I know,” I say my first words. He smiles at my words as I watch his cross tattoo dangle from him. I don’t feel comfortable asking him about his religion as it can often be a private thing and either way it doesn’t affect me. I’m not religious but, I do believe something surely is out there. Something higher than the human race.

“I’m sor-”

“Uh, uh,” I say bluntly, covering his lips. “Don’t say that word, sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, impersonating him. It was pretty terrible but it got the job done.

He smirks under my hand, I release my hand as he almost immediately starts speaking “Was that meant to be me?” He tries to contain his laughter. I nod and he finally lets go and laughs. I laugh at his laugh, taking it lightly. “That was terrible love,”

“I’m sorry, Mr Perfectionist,” I roll my eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” I smile as the kettle quietens down.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. You’ll never know,” He rolls his lips in, looking at my face, up and down. My cheeks go pink as he starts turning away to make his hot drink.

I decide to walk over to my bag to write.

I don’t believe in love anymore. Anytime I have, they’ve all faded away. I don’t want to risk that again. Fair enough you can love, but love doesn’t last forever. And that’s just life.

The person I used to love abused me. At the time, I never thought it was abuse, just me being rude or being too selfish.

But through the person I care about dearly, I’ve learnt I’m anything but that.

But, after all the people who faded, the people who I loved, the only cause I can find is me.

My hands start to quiver at the keyboard, my heart beating out of my chest. I have to keep contain. The box in my head can’t open. Not now. I can’t do this in front of Harry. I look up at him, still having his back turned to me, as hairline becomes lathered in sweat and guilt. I can’t breathe, I can’t talk and I can’t control it any longer.

I need to go.

I tiptoe out of the room that seems to be getting smaller and smaller and hotter and hotter, as fast as possible. My thoughts go blank and the box that I choose to lock shut at the back of my head bursts out like water overfilling a ship. My eyes start overfilling and as soon as you know it, I feel like everything around me has been wiped out.

I’m drowning.

I lock myself shut in the bathroom, unable to control anything around me. My jaw clenches, my knuckles white as terrible, terrible thoughts overfill my hectic mind. I stare at myself in the mirror.

I thought this went away.

I thought the scars have healed.

You need to say sorry, Blossom.

You’re a murder.

“I’m a murderer. I don’t deserve to live, you deserved the world. I’m sorry I took that away!” I scream whisper to myself.

Again, Blossom.

“I’m a murderer. I d- don’t...” I don’t manage to finish the sentence before I sink to the floor like a vase shattering.

I hear knocking in the far distance, I blank it out. Harry can’t see me like this.

“Love...” His voice fades as I block out everything around me and I enter back into my mind.

Blossom. Say sorry, you broke a family.

“I’m a m-murde...” Once again, unable to finish my sentence, I’m shattered, in tears on the bathroom floor wanting everything to all be over and just wishing to see the person I care about the most again.

Blossom, he had it worse than you. Don’t be selfish. Say sorry.

You don’t deserve life over him, say sorry.

Unable to say another audible word, I cover my ears and scream the pain away.

Blossom, it’s not that easy, you loved him, you cared. You murdered him. You’re a murder, say sorry.

“I’m a murde--”

And before I can finish my sentence, the door bursts open.

“You’re a what?”

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