reckless - h.s / mature content

27 - love, oh love

Harry

After getting in my apartment and slumping down on the couch, I felt miserable. I hurt her, I saw it in her eyes. The wet tears brimming in her eyes, as she insulted me in the, may I say most ridiculous way ever, but still. I hurt her.

She thought she'd be a burden to me, when she was the only thing right now making me happy. I know I get hurtful whenever I'm mad, I say things I don't mean and I hate me for that. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew it was the best to leave her alone.

Perfect first start for an relationship, isn't it.

I'm a douche. I should've respected her and her choice not to tell me. She was already telling me so much today and I messed it up with my lose mouth. I wanted her to count on me, when she was sad. I don't even know why I said those things I did, I was just mad that she hadn't answered me, even though I understood her reaction to all of his. I completely did. I was a jerk.

I rubbed my face, exhaling loudly.

She only told me today that she was so scared of losing me and here I am, destroying the trust we build up in a matter of seconds.

I walked over to my balcony, taking a smoke. I sat down, lit my cigarette and inhaled the toxic smoke. It was now 1.23am, but there was no way of getting sleep right now.

I heard the patio door from underneath open and I held my breath, I didn't wanted her to think she had to leave again, I wanted her to calm down and talk to me whenever she was ready. I listened to the sound of her lighter, of her inhaling and exhaling and her quiet sobs which escaped her mouth from time to time. I think she knew I was there, but I wasn't quite sure. But after a few minutes, she started speaking.

"I almost died a year ago." she almost whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear it. "I don't even remember what happened. I remember me getting so worked up about one little thing, but I think this is what I needed to lose control over myself. I remember how I escalated completely, crying screaming and punching. I remember how I woke up in hospital after a few days. I was completely devastated and the doctors told me, I could've died." she started sobbing loudly, not holding back. "I almost died Harry, I almost missed the chance of meeting you." she got louder, talking through tears. "I knew in that moment I had to change my life, but it wasn't enough. It never was. I was always back into this spiral, always taking steps back instead of forward. I hated myself, so I just did what I always did. I drank, I took drugs, I was an complete bitch." her crying slowly died down. "I'm so scared of losing you." she whispered.

I carefully listened to hear words, knowing I could not say a single word to make things better for her.

"When I was 12 years old," I started speaking, voice a little croaked, "I remember my mom getting me from school, because I missed the bus. She was so mad at me that she had to cancel a appointment. She was yelling at me the whole car ride, even though I was crying loudly. It didn't bother her at all. She was screaming how useless I would be and I could not do a single thing right." I closed my eyes, trying to get rid of the memory that replayed on my head, "I remember how she slapped me across the face after we got out of the car. She told me it wasn't manly to cry, no girl would ever want me. I still remember exactly how she lifted her hand and slapped it across my face like I was nothing to her. She didn't even flinch at her harshness. She just smiled afterwards, ruffled up my hair and told me to go in my room, that I would have nothing to eat for the rest of the day." I sighed, the memory still bringing pain to
me. "Little did she know, that why I was running late, was because I did a project for her, for her birthday. I forgot the time, because I was so happy to do something for her so she would finally appreciate me, but she never did. I still gave her the present, she looked at it, laughed and put it on the table, where later Maria, our housemaid, threw it away because my mom told her so." I stopped speaking, taking another hit of my cigarette.