Dear Harry

You've been gone for two weeks now. I haven't been coping well. The boys have even sent me to a therapist to help me forget. But I can't forget. You're all I ever think about. Your luscious curls, the way you smile lights up a room, your green eyes that I love so much. You're impossible to forget. I don't want to forget.

Of course the boys are worried about me. I'm even worried about me. My therapist is worried as well, and that's why she has handed me this journal, so I can write down my innermost thoughts. I have to give it to her every week to read over, but I just feel so weird giving it to her. Most of my thoughts revolve around you, so I guess that's why she wants to read it over, to make sure I'm handling everything well.

But to be honest, I'm not, and yes I'm fairly aware she will read this. But the truth has got to come out sooner or later, yeah? She never specifically told me what to write, but just that I have to write. So I'm writing to you. Starting from day one.

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43. 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.

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