Coming Home

H.P.O.V

Nothing happened to you. Nothing is going to happen to you while I'm around.

I never wanted to relive our past. I thought that if I was careful, if I tried to keep everything clean and organized...I didn't want to be the reason our relationship was holding on by a single thread ready to give out.

I never wanted Presley to feel like a burden.

She wasn't a burden, she wasn't a child, I wasn't her babysitter. I'm not sure if I said that because I was hurt, or my ego was sore.

Truth be told if anyone has looked after anyone in our relationship, it was clearly Presley who's been the caretaker. She's the one who's had to be the bigger person and apologize after every argument. Who put up with my mum after the horrible way she was attacked.

I don't know why we hurt the people we love most.

I just know I have too stop.

I need to be better if I plan on having a future with her,(and I do).

"What did you do," Ben snaps as he walks in, and. Right. He has a key and access to the lock pad. Right.
"I swear you're about to meet God himself, what did you?"

"Is Presley at your place?" I scrub at my face hoping Ben won't notice my eyes. "Is she okay? How is she?"

"She's fine," he growls. "You, however, I haven't decided yet." Ben stands in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. He's angry. I'm sad. It's almost the same. "Why are you two together? I don't understand it."

I stare incredulously at him, "I love her," I swear. "I mess up a lot, I know, but. Ben, I swear I love her."
"You could've fooled me," sometimes I feel like Ben gets a small sense of joy every time I fuck up.

"I. Love. Her."

"Then why do you keep making her cry?!" He uncrosses his arms and spreads them wide giving me a frustrated, and confused look. "You're not supposed to make the people you love cry unless it's out of fucking happiness, and right now she's not shitting sunshine."

My head lowers in shame, "I was wrong, Ben." I'm wrong a lot, it's sad.

"When aren't you in the wrong? It's always you Harry."

My head snaps up, "Maybe but it's not all my fault this time, Ben." I don't know where this sudden defensiveness came from but I'm not going to push it down. Not with Ben. "I'm not the one who lied about where I was going, and who I was seeing. I wasn't the one who said they were sorry they got caught."

Ben sighs running a hand through his hair, "Presley will do anything not to hurt you. She wants you happy always, but sometimes she forgets where the line of smart and stupid meet." I see him swallow and his eyes water unexpectedly. "I've never seen someone love someone like that. I've also never seen someone so hurt by that same someone."

"I'm trying, Ben." I really am. But right now it's not good enough. I need to be better and at the moment I'm not.

"Presley had a small panic attack tonight," my eyes widen, and the blood rushes to my ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck I need to see her. I need to-- fuck, I need to stop fucking up. "She's fine now. Louis' with her. He won't leave her alone, he's a bit afraid to after seeing the way she panics."

"I should be there," I say over my shoulder as I grab my keys. "No, Ben. I need to be there with her. She's mine." I say as I see Ben trying to coax me into staying.

He takes my things from my hands still shaking his head 'no'. "Listen, Harry, Presley panicked because she had a nightmare."

"What? Do you know what it was about?"

Ben nods and he sets my things down, and then plops down on Presley's favorite recliner. "You left. She said you told her you felt like her babysitter? Harry, you can't say that to her. You can't say things you used to say before you left. It triggers her."

"It slipped out," it's no excuse, I know. "I didn't mean it, just like how I didn't mean it back then."

"Do you really believe you and Presley can work? Honestly, do you think you'll make it?"

"Yes," I reply immediately. "Fuck, how's that even a question you're allowed to ask? Yes we're gonna make it, Ben."

"Then why does Presley want to break up with you?" He says slowly. His words go right to my chest. Like a punch in the gut.

My lip begins to tremble without my permission, "W-what?" No, no, no.

He nods his face softening, "She wants to break up with you."

"Why? She's never said that before!"

"I think she's stressed with her dad, and your spat, and this fucking therapist you got her, Harry.... Where did you find that fucker?"

"He was my therapist while on tour," I whisper softly, enjoying Ben's surprised reaction. "He's one of the reasons I didn't go through with it."

"...Through with what?"

"After I left Presley,...I couldn't do it anymore..."

There's only dark around me. The kind of dark that lives in your nightmares. That manages to crawl into your dreams. It envelopes you, crushes you from the inside out.

It hurts. Physically. Mentally.

It hurts and I can't forget. I can't ask for help because I don't deserve it. My mum says I'll be okay, and she doesn't know that I haven't been okay for a while now.

I hurt her. I hurt Louis', and in the process I hurt myself. I didn't need any help with that.

Louis' sad. Proper sad, that no one wishes upon anyone. He won't laugh right now, he won't even joke around. It's worse when we're on he road and his (and Presley's) favorite song will come on and he won't sing along. He'll demand whoever's upfront to switch Stations.

Presley won't stop calling. She won't stop texting. She's even emailed.

When is she going to get it? That I left for a reason. That she's only making this harder on herself, and selfishly me. I need her to stop calling. Fuck.

I need her to disappear.

I need-- fuck, I need to disappear.

Ironically it's Sunday, and I'm somewhere I can't pronounce. There's this bridge, though. It's secluded. No one goes up here. No one knows it's me. I'm alone and I can't stop crying.

It's frustrating and I keep punching my arm. I can't stop crying. I can't stop. I can't do this anymore. I can't. I don't even think I'm sad anymore. At this very point in time.

I think I've fucking snapped.

On three. It's easy. You close your eyes, you fall, it's over. On three.

One. I love Presley. I love her so much I've gone crazy. I love her pretty eyes, and the way she smiles. I love her.

Two. I'm sorry, Lou. I'm sorry you lost your best friend because of me. I'm sorry I've been a prick to you, anyway, and I'm sorry I think we're even because I lost her too. I'm sorry times a billion.

Three. I can't wait to d--

"You can't do that," someone grips my wrist pulling me away from my chosen fate.

No, please, anything but that.

"Let me go," I pull my arm away, and hold my hoodie in place. "Don't tell me what to do. This is none of your business."

"I wasn't going to make it my business until you took one step too close." This man has black and white peppered hair, a bit of hair fuzz on his chin, and knowing eyes. "The fuck are you doing kid? This shit better not have to do with a girlfriend or something."

"She wasn't just a girlfriend--"

"No, she was the love of your life, shut up, I know." He teases. "What's with people these days being so selfish?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're selfish," he repeats pulling me away from the edge. "Let's say you die, you succeed at what you wanted. That's it, your dead. Everyone else isn't so lucky. You're selfish for wanting to put this person you say you love through that."

Fuck.

I swipe under my eyes and tilt my head up. "It hurts so bad," and I did this. I deserve this. "I just...I need it to stop."

"Kid, if you need it to stop hurting, you're going to have to let it scar first."

"That doesn't even make sense," I cry.

"Look, I'm twice your age and I still have things that need to scar before it stops stinging. But it's my fault and I have to understand that, that's why it hurts so much more. I don't lack motivation to jump off this bridge, kid. But I'm not going to do it and let the people I love not get the chance to let their wounds scar over. I can't let them end up on the edge of this bridge, too."

A mental picture of Presley on this bridge is painful. Worse than what's going through my mind right now.

"I can't--"

"Do you think this person would do the same if you went through it? Would she jump too?"

"Yes," Presley would find a way. I know it.

The unknown man pats my shoulder and sighs. "Then what are you doing here? People pray to find someone who loves them that much, and you're just letting it go. Don't be stupid kid, go get your person. Beg, throw your pride out the fucking window. If she loves you enough to jump, you have to love her enough not too."

I love her. I'm miserable, and I love her so much.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Harry. What's yours?"

"Harvey."

"I love her enough not to jump," I mumble. "Harvey helped me, and Presley said he helped her too."

"Did that really happen?" Ben squeaks wiping under his lashes. "Harry, you didn't make that up, did you?...That'd be really fucked up if you did."

"I didn't," I wish I had, but I didn't it.

"Does Louis know? Presley?"

"No and you can't tell them."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want them to know how selfish I am." It's the reason I haven't told mum either. It's not my proudest moment. "I have too see Presley. I can't let her break up with me." The thought alone is terrifying.

Has me on the verge of panicking.

"After hearing that, I don't think you'll make it, Harry. I don't think Presley will either."

That scares me so much. Brings me back all those mental images of Presley on the same bridge I was on.

I can't let her go through that. I can't be selfish with her. Not anymore.

Notes

Loving baby boy is hard. Xx. I hope they don't break up.