Sing to me

Chapter 40

They say that time heals everything. I say that I'm not so sure about that statement, because the sorrow that I am feeling and the sorrow that has been eating me alive only gets worse, as weeks, days, minutes and seconds pass by. Not that I'm counting. It's been 20 days, almost 3 weeks since the last time we saw each other, in Dr. Finn's office.

I've spent two weeks here in Australia and I can't complain. It feels fucking great not to be on the same continent as her. All I have to do is focus on my "recovery" as I like to call it or my daily dose of Xanax, booze, Xanax and more booze. Old habits die hard. Especially when the only person who kept me away from those is gone.

Interestingly, I haven't gone back to one of my old habits. Picking up random girls in clubs all around the world and screwing them in the back of my limo. And it's not like I didn't try – I did, once. But the second she kissed me and started touching me, I wrapped my fingers around her wrists and with one harsh move – pulled her off of me.

Why? Because. Because her hands were nothing like Jade's. Because her lips weren't Jade's lips. Her touch literally caused nothing inside of me, n-o-t-h-i-n-g. It was like my senses were completely shut off and I hated myself for that. I hated how only Jade's touch could make me feel like I was on fire, like I was alive.

To be truly honest, I wasn't really bothering with this whole "moving on" thing. I only cared about being numb. Being numb was way better than being in constant, overwhelming pain. Ofcourse, it meant that I had to be wasted pretty much every single day.

Even when I was intoxicated, she never left my mind, not even for a second. Typical Jade. I was either wondering what is she doing at the minute or how is she feeling or – the toughest question – is she over me yet. When I shared this with Louis, he called me an idiot.

He thinks that we're both acting irrational and hasty and that we should go back to each other. But he doesn't know. About the baby. I didn't want to tell anyone.

Zayn didn't say a word to me about everything that had happened, I'm assuming that he and Perrie don't want to meddle. I would never admit this, but I was kind of jealous of him and Perrie and their relationship. Sure, they had their ups and downs, like everyone's relationship, but Perrie didn't hide from him that she was pregnant and that she had an abortion. At least, not that I know.

Out of all of them, Liam was the most empathic one. Having gone through an ugly break-up himself, he completely understood how I felt. The least empathic one? Niall. Definitely Niall.

First of all, he was too young and immature to understand the pain that is heartbreak. Second of all – the kid was really insensitive. On third day, he asked me directly – who dumped who?

I didn't even have strength to hit him, so I just turned my head in his direction and looked at him with the eyes of somebody who hasn't slept in 72 hours. Thankfully, Liam moved him out of my reach.

We had a few gigs here in Sydney, all of which I literally had to force myself to attend. First of all, I needed to be sober for gigs. Our reputation would never recover, if I appeared drunk as fuck on the stage. Also, it would be pretty rude and disrespectful towards fans who paid for the tickets to see us.

Second of all – I had to present myself as somewhat decent in front of all those people. I started wearing tinted, black sunglasses on every performance to hide my tired, bloody eyes and bags under them. If anyone saw my eyes on daylight – I'd be on every news tomorrow with the headline HARRY STYLES DOING DRUGS.

Not that I gave a fuck about media and their crap – but our publicist would kill me.

It was midnight and boys dragged me to dinner or how they called it "midnight supper" in one of the most luxurious, expensive hotels in Sydney. I wasn't in the mood for some fancy place, but eventually Liam convinced me and it was better than staying in my room and drinking 'til morning.