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I'm awake.

Beyond tired. I haven't slept much in a month. When the first sunbeams fought their way through the curtains this morning I finally fell asleep. I glance at the clock. Two hours of sleep. I hate the sun. I always told him that we should get some blinds but we never did.

The bed is empty. I turn my head to stare at the deserted pillow next to me. Where he used to sleep. The bed is too big now. Cold.

I turn my back to the empty spot. My eyes fall on the painting of a crying baby hanging on the wall. Niall keeps putting it up. Every time we took it down there was a new one there, until we finally stopped. It became a part of us. Made us laugh. Now it's haunting me.

I can't believe it's over. I'm not doing too well. Heartbreak. Misery. Is he thinking of me? Missing me? Having second thoughts?

I sigh. Deeply. I'm sad. So, so sad. Our time together is playing in my head on repeat. How shy he was in the beginning. Scared. Quiet.

I watched him blossom. I helped him blossom. Until he outgrew me. He didn't need me anymore.

Flowers wither and die. So did his love for me even if he told me otherwise. I don't believe him. You don't leave people you love. You just don't.

He couldn't give me a good reason. Hurtful words. Confusing strand of thoughts.

Lack of communication. He's so closed off. Keeps everything to himself. Unable to form words. When it really matters. Damaged. They did that to him. His old tormentors. I want to hurt them. Like they hurt him. Hurt me.

I'm going over our last conversation in my head. Over and over again. Like a broken record. Our fight.

He thinks that I treat him like a child. That I don't see the person he has become. That I'm too overprotective. Stuck with the old image of him.

He's not wrong. If he had seen himself from my perspective when we met he might understand why? He was just a shadow. Making apologies for existing. It broke my heart. I wanted to protect him. From the world. From ever getting hurt again. I smothered him. With concern. With love.

I wish he had talked to me sooner. Let me in. He doesn't do that. Until it's too late. I wish we could start over.

I wasn't honest either. I didn't speak my mind when something bothered me. I was afraid that he was too fragile.

I cry. Press my knees to my chest. Trying to make myself small. Hide underneath the duvet. Ache in my chest. I can't move on. I have to talk to him. Make it right.

I let my sorrow consume me. For a moment it's just me in an empty bed and the taste of salty tears. I'm sad. So, so sad.

I manage to calm down eventually. It comes in waves. The sadness washes over me and I cry. Deep sobs. I'm a mess. Lost.

I get up and walk to the bathroom. Stare at myself in the mirror. Hollow. I look ten years older. Disheveled. My hair is greasy. I haven't shaved in days. I probably smell.

I let out a deep sigh and get in the shower. I let the warm water wash away the evidence of my despair. I soap my hair. My body.

I turn off the water and step out of the shower. Wrap a towel around me. Brush my teeth. I glance at the electric shaver but rule against it. I don't have the energy.

I return to the bedroom and open the closet. It's empty. There's a big hole where his clothes used to be. That's depressing. I try to find something to wear. I'm down to my last pair of clean boxers. I haven't done laundry in a month.

I pull on some sweats and a worn-out t-shirt. Head to the kitchen and stare into an empty fridge. I should really buy some groceries. I haven't been able to eat.

I settle for a cup of tea and some toast with nothing on it. It tastes like paper. I look at my phone. Like I have done so many times in the past month. Hoping to hear from him. My phone is taunting me.

It's Sunday. I hesitate but then I press the call button. My heart is beating fast. I just want to hear his voice. Ask if we can meet up to talk. A monotone voice in my ear.

The number you have called is no longer in service.

I stare at my phone in surprise. Call again. Same message. He changed his number? Why? Because of me? I send a quick text to Niall and ask him to come over. I need answers.

Niall immediately replies that he will be here in twenty minutes. I spend that time staring at the wall. A knock on the door startles me. I get up and open it. Niall. He looks worried.
"How are you holding up?" He asks as he steps into my apartment. It's my apartment now. I hate that.

I ignore the question.
"Did Louis change his number?"

Saying his name out loud pains me. Niall sighs.
"Yeah..."

"Well, can I have his new number? I need to talk to him." I say impatiently.

Niall's eyes flicker. He sighs.
"I can't give you that. I'm sorry, Harry."

I stare at him.
"Why not? Where is he?"

"He moved back to Doncaster. You know that." Niall answers. Something is clearly bothering him.

"Permanently? I thought he just went home to his family for a while?" I question.

"Uhm, things changed. Oh, fuck it. Take a seat. I have to tell you something." Niall says.

My stomach twists. I might throw up. "He found someone else?" I whisper.

"No, just...here." Niall says and takes a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me.

I unfold it and read.

Dear Mr. Horan

Louis Tomlinson has had Harry Styles erased from his memory. Please never mention their relationship to him again.

Thank you

LACUNA INC.

This is absurd. I snort. Glare at Niall.
"Is this one of your lousy fucking jokes? I'm not appreciating it, mate."

"No, it's legit. They use a brain map to erase your memories. I googled it." Niall stresses.

I don't believe him. It's impossible. You can't erase your memories. I grab my phone and google the company. I find a webpage and start to read. My mouth falls open. It can't be real. My eyes tear up.
"He erased me?" I whisper. Voice shaky.

"I'm sorry, mate. You know how spontaneous he can be. I talked to him before... He said it hurt too much." Niall tries to explain.

I just stare at him. Louis is a master of avoidance but this? I get angry. Rage flares in my chest. He erased me? I meant that little to him?
"Well, then I will fucking erase him too. Why should I be the only one suffering?"

"No, Harry. You don't want to do that. It's a bad idea. I'm sure he would regret it too if he remembered. Don't. Just don't." Niall pleads.

"Watch me!" I growl.

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