Lonely Nights // H.S

19.

'I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

I found you'

*

January. 4 months later.

"Congratulations!"

The crowd filling the room erupts with the same word, letting the edge of their glasses hit another's, applauding, and singing their praises. So many faces I recognise, too, but haven't had the chance to see in so long. People I grew up with, those my family knows, and so many that filled the colourful memories of my childhood. There are aunts and uncles, cousins, distant relatives, and then every person that happened to enter our lives. So many paths crossed, and they have all led here.

I wonder whether there is some divine force that creates a sense of permanency when a person enters your life. Even if they leave little to no impact, their stay brief, somehow, they're always around. You see them on the street, in a bar, down the hall – and then at a celebration like today. An urgency to bring them back after they've left, especially because there were never any goodbyes. It wasn't final or resolute, just a way of moving on.

In moments like this, though, no one seems to care how few conversations they've had in the years between their last meeting and this event. Spirits are high, love fills the room, and only warmth can be felt. And that's refreshing.

It is certainly needed, too.

The chance to think of something other than myself, to spend time with people that want my company, to forget about whatever I will come home to in the morning. True, it will not solve anything, but it will ease the quiet war being waged in my chest. The beating of my heart seeming to go much faster over these past few months, a constant state of anxiety that has me wishing I could go into cardiac arrest and end this suffering.

Four months ago, Harry and I decided enough was enough.

Four months ago, we kissed for the final time.

Four months ago, we said goodbye.

In a heroic gesture, he realised that stringing me along without devoting himself to me beyond being a secret love affair would only burn me in the future. Scars across my skin that would keep opening with greater wounds as we selfishly chose each other instead of our morals. He said that I was already hurting, and he was making it worse. I told him I should decide if I want that or not, but he said he refused to do it anymore. He saw me breakdown in that field, listened to me cry over how much I loved him and how he had decided to love someone else, and he had an epiphany, I suppose.

An epiphany that had him running back to the woman I wish I could be, but not out of spite. He told me he had to, because he had promised Prue a life together, and while he only sought her after he forced himself to believe we could never happen, he seems to have grown used to the routine and company that their relationship brings. He loves her, and he says it so easily, as if love were as simple as her name. But when he looks at me, his words get caught in his throat and he stumbles over every sentence. He never said that word to me, but sometimes I dream that he did, just so I can have the satisfaction of feeling it reciprocated.

It was slow and drawn out and ended in an argument. We slept together again, but I instantly cried, and he spent the next hour holding me and telling me how sorry he was. The next morning, we finally agreed that it was reckless of us, and we couldn't do it any longer, much less see each other in a friendly setting either.

So, it's been four months of no contact. Not even a like on social media or a text to check in. Silence, just not the kind we like. We keep up appearances when others are around, but conversation is never between just the two of us.