All I Want.

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A/N: This is a double update. Make sure to read the next chapter after this one...





The first week felt like a normal week of missing him. I kept having to remind myself that we weren't together. I kept having to remind myself that we were just.. That we're just friends now. That he's still Harry Styles, but he's not my Harry Styles anymore.

I love him, but friends don't look at friends that way. The hurt hasn't dulled much, but the tears have stopped. I swear every single time I see pictures from tour, pictures of him up on those stages wearing such amazing clothes. The way he looks so happy, the way he's singing the songs we wrote together, but don't get to enjoy together... It hurts.

    It hurts to the point of me not writing... I have picked up my journal, and my pen about a million times. I've pressed the pen to the same spot on the paper, making a small dot there. I've looked at my piano a thousand times, but I haven't played it... I don't know why I'm so stopped up but I am.

    Week two got harder because it felt like I had a lot of that feeling building up inside of me but nowhere to get it out. I didn't want to go to the studio. I didn't really want to leave my apartment at all if I was being honest. I didn't want to go to the smoothie shop because Sandy would ask me questions. I didn't want to go to beachwood because it reminded me of him.

I didn't want to go to his special spot to look at the stars... I didn't want to look at our view alone, and it was too far to ride on my bike anyways. I didn't want to go to the beach either because my spot has that faint imprint of him too, just like everything. He's in my bed... I see him lying there talking to Bowie, and he's on my couch, watching Disney movies. He's in my kitchen cooking me breakfast, feeding Bowie...The memories of the kisses we shared there, the dance parties we had... He's everywhere.

    Week three has been the hardest part for me. Week three hurts the most because of the dry conversation, the awkward tension... The splintering silence between Harry and I. Yes he asks me my favorite color everyday, and I'm pathetic to say it's the highlight of my day getting that text. Sometimes I'm honest about the colors...

Sometimes I lie because he can't tell through a text message... Because I don't want him to know how hurt I am. I don't want to tell him my favorite color is red because it's how I feel because my heart is literally bleeding right now, and it's his fault. I can't tell him that. I can't hurt him like that. I can't hurt him the way he hurt me, even if he was right... A soft meow makes me turn my head as I lay on the ground.

    "He's not coming back Bowie... Not for a long time.." I tell him with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. Bowie circles around me, and meows again. I sigh, and cover my eyes. "You think I don't know that? Of course I shouldn't have let him go. Of course I should have told him everything but it's too late for that. I fell in love, and I messed it up okay?" I admit, sitting up, putting my head in my hands. Bowie rubs against me, meowing softly now, and I crack a bit, laughing, but crying at the same time. I shake my head, and bring a hand down to pet Bowie as he sits next to me. "I know... I miss him too... I miss him too Bowie.." I speak back to him, and watch him stay seated next to me. I look down to see an incoming call, and I answer right away.

    "Hello?" I ask.

    "Cherry bomb! What's up?" Mitch asks, and I lay back down on the floor.

    "Laying on the floor." I tell him simply, putting him on speaker phone.

    "Of course you are-"

    "Who's that?" I hear Sarah's voice.

    "Cherry." He speaks to her.

    "Hi Cherry! We miss you!" Sarah calls out.

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