Still The One

Twelve

I’ve been told that people in the army do more by 7:00 a.m. than I do in an entire day. But if I wake at 6:59 a.m. and turn to you to trace the outline of your lips with mine, I will have done enough and killed no one in the process. – Shane Koyczan

 

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Twelve
Four years ago – February 13, 2014

Strangely, and with each passing day, I was finding myself falling more and more in love with Harry Styles. Maybe it was the way the let his fingertips celestially graze the surface of my skin; his tender strokes went over the arches of my collarbones and his touch would gently lift the hem of my shirt to caress the curves around my tummy.

Or it was the expression he made when he was intently deep in thought; his tongue was occasionally jutting out from the corner of his lips and his concentration was set on fixedly searching for the exact, right words.

Or, considerably, it was just from the way he looked at me; the gentle, light gems were where his eyes should be. How they bore into mine always warmed me from my core.

It had been seven months of our blessed relationship, and I had discovered the endless limit you can love someone. It was a strange realization to know that a person could take up most of the space in your brain. I was beginning to pick up little things from him – the way he was taking food off of my plate, and his charming habit of singing in the shower. Harry changed me, and I could be myself and he wouldn’t judge me. And that was all I ever wanted.

But even with the enchanting moments that I was never failing to have with Harry, there was always this disheartening feeling that something bad was going to happen. Things were as good as they were ever going to get, and someday my fantasy world would shatter. The so-far enduring happiness would crumble beneath me. He would realize that he deserved everything and then some. And I would never be enough to fill that void. And inevitably, he would leave me.

But I was a selfish person. I was enjoying the time I had with him because I knew he was too ignorant to see what I see. So, that poignant feeling that burned a hole through my heart like poison would just have to wait.

I picked off a stray, loose string from my cream knit-sweater. Occupying my time, by kicking my feet back and forth off the edge of the couch, I was hearing the familiar sound of his footsteps against the hardwood stairs.

“Would you like to help your handsome boyfriend with any of this, hun?” Harry’s muffled voice suggested from behind the layers of luggage in his arms.

I teased, “But you look so strong and manly carrying those all by yourself. Your weakling girlfriend would just hold you back.”

“Always so flattering, babe,” he replied and carefully placed our multiple bags on the floor. Walking over with a certain playfulness in his eyes, he was looking down at me. “Tell me again why we have to lug all of this to Icy?”

I got up from my seat while Harry held both of my hands in his, a feeling I’d never tire of. “Because Evan wanted to speak to us one last time before we leave.”