Insanity (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Thirty

Harry POV

"You ready sweetheart?" Mrs. Clifford whispered from next to me. We sat outside in the center of the dreaded cemetery, upon rusted folding chairs. My boyfriend, the person I once kissed, held, told all my secrets to, the man I loved, was forever out of reach.

His beautiful body, that was once filled with warmth, his deep Australian voice, his incredible mind once filled with thoughts and dreams, were now gone. Now, he was merely a corpse taking up space in an overly expensive box; a box that was about to go in the ground. My hugs, my kisses, my baby, was going into the ground. Forever.

"Now, Michael's boyfriend would like to say a few words." The Pastor muttered in front of the small crowd. I stood up, legs shaking, knowingly unable to make this speech. How was he gone?

I opened the tear stained piece of loose leaf, sketched with my emotions. "I didn't know Michael very long, but in the mere months I did, he saved me. He came into my life unexpectedly, in a time I thought I was breaking. He put me back together. Even when he was breaking, when he was the one needing help, he saved me with his love. He was an incredible person, inside and out. I hate saying that...was. He still is. Even if he's not physically here, I feel him. I still feel him all the damn time." I paused, trying to control my tears. "Sorry." I took a shaky breath. "I love you so much Michael, and I'll never forget you. I could never forget you, beautiful." I placed the crumpled paper on the cherry wood coffin, kissing the box gently.

Mrs. Clifford found her way next to me, taking my hand, as Michael was lowered into the ground. That was it. All of it. A life, just gone forever. It was disgustingly simple. I walked Mrs. Clifford to her limo, where she left with her Dad and sister for comfort. It was just...over. I hated it, it seemed like someone just flipped the page, ended a chapter, and moved on. I guess that's life though. We all have a story filled with chapters, cliffhangers, antagonists, and no matter how incredible and unbelievable the story is, every story ends. Every last one.

"You ready Haz?" Louis came up from behind me. "Yeah, let's go." I hastily walked to Louis' car. I sat in the small car, running my hands up and down my suit covered legs, trying to control it. I knew it was coming back, and there was nothing I could do about it.

We drove for about an hour, before we finally reached my childhood home. I pushed myself out of the car, and into the house ignoring the protests of my family. I locked my self in the shaded upstairs bedroom, and that's when I snapped.

I began crying first, but that was always a symptom of the panic attacks. I couldn't breathe, and frankly I couldn't care. I tore my jacket and tie off, throwing them who knows where. I punched walls, broke lamps, muffled screams in attempt of suffocation in the off white pillows. I heard them trying to get in, but I locked, and blocked them out. Mentally and physically. I was gone again. I somehow wavered my way into the guest bathroom connected to the room. I punched the mirror, blood splattering everywhere. I found a small bottle of Valium left over from years ago, and swallowed whatever was left. I collapsed on the floor, admired the shard of glass in my bruised and blooded hand, before going to work on my body once again. I was drifting away slowly, ready to be taken. I just wanted to see him again, one last time.

"Harry!" I heard a horrified scream, and faintly saw Louis standing in the bathroom doorway. "Oh my God. Baby, why? Robin call an ambulance!" He shouted thorough the room. I peered though blurred eyes up at him, as he used his tie to cauterize the wounds I inflicted on my arm. "How did you get in?" I whispered. "The window." He cried back, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, as I fell peacefully into his lap.

"You didn't need to do this. I know you're hurting, but what would Michael have wanted?" He cried, running his fingers through my hair. "You know what's fucked up?" I laughed. "I almost kissed you. While my boyfriend was dying of fucking Cancer, I almost kissed you. I deserve to die." I shook my head.

"It's going to be ok Haz. I promise." He intertwined his fingers loosely in mine. "He's dead Lou." I cried. "I know baby, I know. You know what else I know though? He loved you so much, and he wouldn't have wanted this. He would want you to stay strong for him." His whispered, peppering a kiss on my cheek.

"I'm not strong. I'm weak." I stuttered. "That's where you're wrong, love. Your love radiates strength. Your heart, your smile, everything about your existence is perfect. When he was sick, you helped him through it. You made him want to fight, you made him strong." He told me firmly. "You know what else?" He continued. "You make me strong." He whispered into my ear.

"I need you to stay alive baby, because you are my strength too. I love you so much." He cried. I nodded, slowly drifting into unconsciousness, as I faintly heard the ambulance approaching the house.