Y/N was a writer, and like any other, she preferred to write from experiences. It didn't always have to be deep, didn't have to be so meaningful in and of itself-sometimes the simplest things can make the best moments. She believed in living life to the fullest-as cheesy as it sounds- because life really is way too short to spend it on auto-pilot. Y/N wanted to embed herself in each passing second, as if metaphorically speaking that every experience is a part of who she is now.
As her fingers stumbled through the keys of her keyboard, forcing ever carpal and metacarpal to work hard to put her thoughts into words-her mind was on overdrive. Memories of both the good and bad times scrolling like a film in her head with no end. Happy faces overturned by frowns and vice versa; she was glad to have the opportunity to reminisce every person that contributed to her well-being in the present.
She placed herself on her knees with heels digging on her behind while her hands flipped through the various photos that managed to capture the times where she felt and looked happy. She was disappointed to admit that she rarely felt that anymore, not since him.
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Harry was Y/N's friend; they weren't that close or anything, but Y/N surely felt special being entrusted with Harry's secrets. And it's not even that she was friends with the Harry Styles, it had something to do with Harry being picky with his companions. "You can't always trust everyone," He said to her once with a pull to his mouth, while his fingers picked a loose thread on his jeans, to which she stared at him with a longing look in her eyes, silently hoping that he stuck to his words.
Unfortunately, wishes don't always come true and the everlasting present could only exist until a blind force pinches every hopes down into crumbs. Y/N was the one that was always there for him. She was the one that spent late nights with a twitching ear from his endless rants and heartbreaking sobs piercing the humid air.
It didn't help that she couldn't decipher what she was feeling-couldn't categorize it either as the beginning of one-sided relationship or if he really was something of a special friend. Y/N didn't realize that just as quick as she found a stable boat that is Harry, that it could be swiftly taken from the grip of her hands.
What they had was a friendship that hauled itself on the similarities of their lives-the anticipatory honeymoon phase where all they talked about seemed appealing, interesting, and exciting only because it was between them. He was but a companion that truly made a mark in her dainty, routine-filled life yet she somehow couldn't shake the fact that he was long gone.
Distance was a factor that she hated to face. Dwindling communication being cut off for a few minutes, an hour, weeks then days-because they didn't have time for each other. And yes, Y/N's heart ached as she could feel him physically slipping from between her fingers but she didn't have the determination to keep Harry.
All those late night talks were only a mere memory of a fondness that she exhumed around him. The incredible bond between two people that could have lead to something greater disappeared into ashes.
It hurts abundantly to lose a friend but it is more painful when you drift from someone you once loved.
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