P.S. (Please Stay)

Eleven

Dear Harry,

Today is your 27th birthday. I don't know why, but I always remember your birthday. That's a lie. I know why I remember. It's you. I wonder what you're doing today. Did Hailey spoil you? Did she find the perfect gift for you? Is she cooking your favourite meal for supper? Is she doing all the things I would do? Why do I hope she's not? I want your birthday to be the best day, but I don't want her making it your best day. God, I'm the worst and such a hypocrite. I'm writing you this letter that I'll never send, in the notebook reserved for planning my wedding to someone else. I don't know what I'll do if anyone ever reads it.

I was thinking about our first date the other day. I was watching that stupid Bachelor knock-off (don't laugh) and this couple went on a date to the beach. It looked so much like our little spot in LA. I wonder what that spot would look like now. Was it really as beautiful as I remember? Or was it beautiful because I was there with you? I guess I'll never know. That night was one of the best nights of my life. I wish I could go back to that. I wish we could go back to being that couple, with so much hope and promise for the future. I wish I knew what happened to us. Why did we let each other become strangers? Why did we give up on each other so easily? Why didn't we fight for us? What the fuck went wrong?

I wish we hadn't left things the way we did. I didn't want to leave like that, upset and angry without any closure. But I really don't know if I will ever be able to get closure from you.

I miss you so much it hurts.

Dear Harry,

Today is Valentine's Day. Ben's working tonight. I know I should be disappointed, but it wouldn't be right when I can't get you off my mind. Why do I always think of you on every Valentine's Day, even though we never spent one together? I always say I don't care about Valentine's Day, that it's just one day out of the year. Who cares? Love should be shown and known every day, not just one. I know I would have spouted that to you. You probably would have argued with me. I can hear you saying something like "Valentine's Day is our reminder to invest time and energy into our relationship and remind the other how much we love them" and then something pervy like "I'll invest some energy in you" while smacking my ass and giving me one of those adorable, exaggerated winks. And then you would have grinned, all cute and dimpley, while you spoiled me. And you know I would have loved it, even if I acted like a cheeky brat. And I would have spoiled you. I loved spoiling you.

Fuck. I need to stop thinking about you. I can't, but I have to.

Dear Harry,

Today marks 4 years since we first met. How has it only been 4 years? It feels like a lifetime. I never could have guessed that me getting sick on this handsome stranger on the plane would change my life in such a way.

I'm not doing well with this whole wedding planning stuff. Maybe it would help if I didn't have letters to you tucked among pictures of floral arrangements and bridesmaid dresses.

How am I supposed to do this? I can't marry someone who's not you.

~*~*~*~

Harry trudged down the hall towards his hotel room. He felt like a zombie, hardly able to keep his eyes open. The band was almost at the halfway point of their reunion tour and while Harry had been enjoying it more than he expected he would, he couldn't deny how exhausting it was.

And lonely, he remembered as he stepped into the empty hotel room.

Harry let out a sigh, kicking off his boots before flopping onto the bed. He covered his face with his hands, rubbing his palms against his tired eyes. He had a bottle of Casamigos chilling in the fridge but he wasn't sure if he even had the energy to have a drink.