The event changed everything, but a story can’t have a central theme unless there are walls to support it, roads that take you there and on, because I can’t just give you a fact and you understand it fully until I explain it. So here it is; I love Harry Styles, but the roads that I take you on to understand may not be one’s that you really want to travel, so heed the signs on the barren roadsides, and understand. I’ll tell you about the days, thirty before and thirty after, encompassing Harry’s attempted suicide.


50. 12 days after

12 Days After:

Harry calls me. His voice is brittle, but he manages to sound accusing all the same. "You haven't called me!" "I didn't know if you wanted me to!" I snap back, and he falls silent. "I did," he finally answers, and I sit down on the arm of the couch, waiting for him to add something else, but he doesn't. "Are you getting better?" I ask, timid. "Every day," he replies softly, and the world doesn't feel so dark anymore.

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