Finer Things // h.s.

Life Is Funny Like That

August 17th, 2019

Today is winter. It's officially been six months without Dad around. It's been six long, cold and lonely months without my Father. I haven't been home since he died and I still don't know what to do with the house, I suppose I tried to push it off my plate so I wouldn't have to go back to a place that used to be so warm and full of life to see it bare and collecting dust. A place I called home now a ghosttown. I lay in bed with the curtains drawn and I've been here all morning... I'm sure early morning coffee has slipped into a late lunch by now but I'm not hungry. I can't move, I can't speak more than three words, not even to Harry. He's been patient with me these last few months, today more than ever. Harry's footsteps come into the room, but I don't move my eyes to look at him, rather I lay on my side curled up into a ball under the thick covers of our bed. It's still odd to call it that. He moves to the window and I hear the ruffling of the curtains as he looks outside.

"Hey baby..." Harry says softly, asking for a response more than a greeting. I don't respond, rather I stare at the grey wall that separates the bedroom to the bathroom. I part my dry lips and swallow hard. I know the instant I look at him my iced core will melt to snow. Eventually however it will melt to reveal a green grass littered in fresh born daisies... I suppose that's how winter works, right? The snow melts and turns to water that feeds the small flowers that sleep beneath the thick coat of soft snow. The cool air runs warm and my skin will feel the summer heat once more. I know winter will end, but in this moment as I lay like the shell of a human I have become, I can't see the winter ending.

"What if we opened the curtains and let some sun in, wouldn't that be good?" Harry asks me softly and I squeeze my bloodshot eyes shut and shake my head in response.

"Or we could go on a walk?" Harry says as he walks around the dark room and picks up clothing from the ground, throwing it into the wash basket, making his way to sit next to me on the bed.

"Stop..." I whisper.

"Or maybe we could bake something?" He says softly, not hearing my whimper.

"Harry plea-"

"I could even get some paint and we could make some art in the backyard?"

"Stop it..." I say a little louder, his voice becoming too much. I can't even think about getting out of bed yet let alone baking, walking or painting.

"I know! What if we-"

"Stop!" I shout at him as I sit up in bed, hugging my knees to my chest. My cheeks burn when he looks to me with a furrowed brow, biting on his lip.

"I'm sorry, Harry... I'm so unbelievably sorry I-"

"It's okay." He says and we sit quietly as tears begin to well in my eyes and I feel the burning sensation rise in my throat. I throw the cover off and move to his chest and bury myself in his neck, clenching at his tee shirt as if the moment I let go is the moment I lose all control once more and I'll melt into a puddle, that will inevitably slip away into the bathroom and down the drain where I'll sit alone in the dark sewers.

"I-I-..."

"Shh, baby. It's okay. I know." He says and I sob uncontrollably, my body shaking as I hyperventilate. I lose control once more. I'm still grieving.

"Fuck..." I cry out into the air, my deep sobs and groans filling the air. I gasp for air, feeling like I'm suffocating, and the room is becoming smaller, but Harry keeps it from closing in on me.

"I miss my Dad, Harry!" I shout and he pulls me in tighter, panic rising in my chest.

"I know, baby... I miss him too." He says and I hear his voice break. He pets down my hair and holds me tightly, never letting go as he rocks me back and forth while I breakdown into him, shaking and soaking his tee shirt with my tears.