99 Days Without You

Louis journal after Harry commits suicide

credit to original author

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11. Day 72-78

Day Seventy-Two:
The boys came over today. It was the first time seeing them in basically a month. They must have expected more… maybe a happier version of myself—like I was before. Well, newsflash for them, I will never be that Louis again. I know that for a fact now.
You took a chunk of me with you, Harry. I’m only a part of what I was before. Now I’m broken, torn apart inside.
Niall and Liam hugged me tightly for a while, crying tears of happiness and relief to see that I had gained weight. They claim to be happy that I was back, but I don’t think they were. I’m not the Louis they know or love, I’m a stranger. As for Zayn, he just stood back for a while as he waited for the other two to finish welcoming me home. When they were through he hugged me as well. I think he may have cried the hardest.

Day Seventy-Three:
I emerged from the flat this morning, in just a bathrobe and slippers. The sun was shining harshly in my eyes, and I frowned in distaste. All I needed was some milk for my cereal, but of course, nothing always goes as planned.
At the sight of me, about four or five girls began to squeal, instantly ushering themselves closer to me. I really wasn’t in the mood, but I put on the show. You know how that goes. They began to chatter excitedly to me, talking about absolutely nothing that mattered to me, and I forced a tight grin on my face.
Suddenly they became quiet as they took in my appearance, and one slowly stepped forward to give me a small hug. Though it may have just been an excuse to touch me, I appreciated the girl’s gesture. I didn’t mean to, but I began to cry in her arms. She only stood there, holding me until my cries ceased to sniffling and backed away to wipe my tears.
“We all loved him, you know. You two loved each other though, and that was obvious. He loved you so much Lou, don’t forget that. Don’t you ever forget that.” She had whispered, and squeezed me one last time before walking away.
She hadn’t even asked for an autograph or a picture, and that’s when I realized: our fans truly do care. It’s not just about the fact that we’re famous, or “cute”.
I realized a lot today.
But one huge thing in particular that I feel the need to share with you is that I realized I can’t live without you.

Day Seventy-Four:
I tried to fight the urge, but it had been calling me for quite a while. I punched another mirror today, with my good hand of course. The sight of the crimson liquid seeping through the newly created cracks in my skin fascinated me, and I let myself sit there and bleed myself dry until I felt nothing but numb.
There was no pain, only a lingering calmness sweeping through me until I let myself drift off into unconsciousness.

Day Seventy-Five:
I just realized that it’s been over two months without you, and that only makes this more real. I’m nothing but an empty shell now. I live with no purpose and I have nothing left to give to this world.
The pain is never-ending.

Day Seventy-Six:
I pulled out your note again today. It was tucked away to the back of my bedside drawer, in my own attempt to hide it away from myself. But I just had to see your handwriting, and read the words printed on the page that I know by heart, words which I could recite in my sleep.
I feel guilty now more than ever, as the pang of guilt is beginning to seep through my soul once more. It’s never left, but re-reading your note has hurt me in ways I had never imagined were possible until now.
Eleanor is long gone; she’s out of the picture. I haven’t called her back ever since I ended things. I can’t believe it took you being gone for me to realize she wasn’t what I wanted. You could have just told me. I would have dumped her right then and there.
I should have told you, I guess, but I wasn’t aware of those feelings at the moment. All I can do is blame myself though. It’s my fault and it always will be.

Day Seventy-Seven:
I ran into Anne today. I don’t know what she was doing in London, and I didn’t ask, but when she saw me she instantly fell into my arms, sobbing her poor little heart out into my chest.
“It hurts more each time I see it.” She whispered into my ear, and pulled away before I could reply. I stood dumbfounded on the street in a sea of people, staring with my mouth agape at the disappearing figure of your mother.
I just assumed she was talking about your grave.

Day Seventy-Eight:
I didn’t visit your grave yesterday because I was just too scared. I just now realized that I hadn’t visited you once since the funeral, and the guilt is eating away at me now more than ever.
I feel terrible. I feel completely, utterly terrible. I’ve been so selfish. I’ve always been so selfish. I’ve always thought about myself instead of you.
So now here I am, sitting before your grave with tears running down my face. The flowers are fresh, and there are dozens of them Haz. People love you. I brought a single rose; I sure hope it’s enough. I didn’t want to crowd the place, but seeing all of these different flowers makes mine look pathetic.
I gave it to you anyways. I set it right in front. I plan on staying here a while, so I have a couple blankets with me and a bottle of wine. Red. That’s always been your favorite. Right Harry?


I woke up still sitting before your grave today, only to realize that I had gotten myself drunk last night, and passed out in the grass.
You must be ashamed of me.

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