Already Home // Harry Styles

Why Am I Like This?

14th April 2023, London

The day after the news broke, and every rag and social media site was playing those clips over and over, flowers were delivered to the house. Apology bouquet you've assumed right? That's what I assumed too. But it wasn't.

It was a big white bouquet. Lilies, roses, chrysanthemums, babies breath, dahlias. The card, it wrote 'I'm thinking of you today. While I wish I could be with you, I want you to know I'm here for you always. Those we love and lose are always connected by heartstrings. I love you, H'

I stood staring at the bouquet in disbelief for quite some time. I had only told him the actual date I lost my baby once. And it was months and months ago. He remembered. He wanted me to know he remembered. I could only assume this delivery was planned before the actions of the last few nights.

I sat right there on the hallway floor and sobbed. The bouquet sitting next to me on the carpet as I cried for my lost child, as I cried for Charlie who desperately wanted to be a father, I cried for the future I had lost with him, I cried for the young Addison who thought Harry would be her one and only, I cried for what I had lost now, I cried for the small abandoned child I was that just always wanted to be loved. I let it all out. Every bit of it. It felt like I was letting a full years worth of emotion out of me, finally. I couldn't help but feel like the universe was punishing me somehow. You always feel a bit like that when you are hurt don't you? Like you have been dealt with a ton of misfortunes? It's hard to remember that actually your life has had tons of happy moments too when you are stuck in grief.

When I felt like I had been sat there for hours, when it felt like there wasn't enough water left in my body to shed anymore tears, I finally got off the floor.
I grabbed the flowers and my phone off the floor and moved to the kitchen. Moving around, looking through cabinets for a vase. Eventually finding one at the back of one of the low cupboards, I filled it half way with water. Trimming down the plants, I popped them in. I felt like I was moving on autopilot. There was a bunch of flowers, my hands knew what to do with them. My brain didn't engage in the action at all. My brain still was empty as I sat at the kitchen island for what seemed like forever, just staring off into space before I seemed to come to.

Grabbing my phone, I typed out a message to Harry. '

~Thank you for the flowers, it means a lot that you remembered. Please don't come back here. I need space. I need to think. Please give me that~
Was that unfair? I still was undecided.

He did grant me the space I needed. For a week or so I heard nothing from him. Just hearing from Gemma and Anne about how down he was. How he was on overdrive with work apparently. In that studio he loved so much in Japan almost 24/7. Gemma told me that she had received a call from Tom, he worried about Harry. He wasn't himself Tom said. He was withdrawn, isolating himself, doing nothing but write and play piano. He didn't play the piano that much so that was unusual. I felt bad of course. Guilty even. I'm sure if I just said it was all good, I was over it, that Harry would be relieved. But I wouldn't lie to him. That wasn't fair either.
Oh yeah! I had to have that conversation with Anne. That was fun. I'll get to that later.

I called Charlie that day. Asked him if he wanted to meet up. It seemed right, that we would be together and mark the day somehow. I figured he was the only other person in the world to understand how I felt and I think I was craving to feel like I wasn't alone.

We went for a walk up on Hampstead Heath. It was cold and drizzling and I was glad of it. It matched my mood. I get it, I'm a whiny little bitch and you are bored of reading about it but this was how I was feeling. Give me a break.

"I wondered if you would call today" Charlie said after we had greeted one another.

"It seemed fitting. I'm not sure who else I would wanna talk to today" I shrugged, shoving my hands into my hoody pocket.