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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

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Somebody To You: 1

A/N: It’s finally here! The first chapter of my second Harry Styles fic! We’re starting off with a LOOOONG, heavy one. I want to thank you all for patiently waiting. Most of the characters in this story is based off of some of YOU! Zoey, Nancy, Aurora, Andy, and Katie - Thanks for reading and being apart of this story. I’m sorry if I didn’t get your personalities right, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I’ll be posting every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday! Enjoy.

<3 Shannon

To Read My Previous Story, Click Here

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CHAPTER ONE

Never in a million years did Zoey think she’d move across the country on her own. But here she was, driving down the interstate in her dingy 2010 Toyota Camry, car filled to the brim with her belongings. LA had always been a far fetched idea. Actually, if we were being honest, it was never her idea to begin with. It was Jessica’s. Moving to LA alone was never a part of the plan. Jess should have been here. They should have been blasting music through the stereo, complaining about the shitty A/C in the car, road raging together, and dreaming about all of the things they would do when they arrived.

Instead, Zoey drove in silence, briefly passing through all of the tourist spots and monuments they had always talked about visiting along the way, pulling into walmart parking lots for bathroom breaks or cat naps, alone. The only noise disrupting the silence was the hum of the engine and the occasional whisper under her breath as she spoke, in vain, to her best friend.

Jess was a force. Anyone who had the pleasure of knowing her would say the same thing. She lit up a room. She was the outgoing one. She’d talk to anyone and everyone that passed her, striking up random conversations that only she could come up with. And her laugh was infectious. Zoey always made Jess laugh and it got them in a lot of trouble over the course of their fifteen year friendship.

Jess always had her platinum blonde hair straight, never putting it up - something Zoey always did out of habit, rarely letting her hair down because she didn’t like how it looked. Jess always had a knack for the dramatics, which is why she wanted to move to LA since she was little. She had dreamed of becoming an actress. Zoey saw her in every high school and college play. And she was good. Really good. Honestly, she had potential to make it. But, to Zoey, all of the long talks of moving to LA was just that: talk. She could never let go of the comfort of being close to family in her small, Pennsylvania town with her best friend and boyfriend. Besides, how could they even afford it?

But all of that changed on June 9th of last year. It was Jess’ 26th birthday and the two girls went out to celebrate with a few friends at the bar they worked at together. Zoey and Jess were the last to leave and had drunk a little more than they intended, so they had Zoey’s boyfriend, Michael, pick them up. Not even 3 minutes into the car journey it happened. A drunk driver ran a red light and had rammed into the rear passenger side door at 50 mph. The car flipped and Zoey hit her head against the window, sending her unconscious.

She woke up in the hospital the next afternoon with a broken wrist, a few fractured ribs, and a concussion, surrounded by her parents who were crying, her little sister, Katie, who sat timidly in the corner of the room, and Michael who only had a few scrapes and cuts, but was ultimately fine, squeezing her leg that was tucked under the heavy white blanket. When her eyes fluttered open, her mom gasped and both of her parents hovered over her, her dad stroking her cheek. The first thing Zoey managed to croak out was, ‘Where’s Jess?’. Her mom lost it, uncontrollably sobbing. It was her dad that had to break the news to her. Jess didn’t make it.

It’s weird. You’d think hearing the news of your best friend’s death would send you into a fit of rage or hysterics, but that didn’t happen for Zoey. She felt numb. It could have been the shock, but it didn’t feel real. Jess couldn’t have been gone. She was here only hours ago, laughing her infections laugh and smiling her gorgeous smile. And even so, when Jess’ parents came to visit her at the hospital to discuss the funeral, it still hadn’t set in. She wanted to laugh at them to stop being so dramatic. That everything was fine. That Jess was still here, she was just sleeping. She couldn’t just be gone. Not Jess. She was too full of life to just be gone. But the bags under their eyes told a different story. They had lost their only child. How do you recover from that?

Zoey was stuck in the hospital for a little over a week, causing her to miss her best friend's funeral, which didn’t help in her denial. The day she was released, her boyfriend picked her up from the hospital and drove her to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis’ house. The walk up to the front door felt different. Over the past fifteen years, Zoey never knocked on the front food or rang the doorbell, she just walked in. She wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate now. Unsure, she knocked, hesitated, and cracked the door open where she was met by the exhausted couple who gave her a warm hug and led the two towards the back, past the pool where she had so many fond memories of laughter with Jess, the glistening water seeming so inviting on this warm afternoon, towards the pool house where Jess stayed.

Some had questioned why Jess still lived with her parents if she was 25 and worked a well paying job. But, to put it lightly, Jess’ family was very well-off. Her dad had built and owned a business from the ground up and it became a major success practically overnight. She had her own space, rent free. Besides, the pool house was big enough to fit three of Zoey and Michael’s apartment into it. Why would she not stay there?

But when they walked in, it hit her. Everything was exactly as they had left it, nothing had been moved. Except this time, the room did not feel full of life like it always had. It felt cold and empty. And Zoey broke down.

She felt stupid for crying in front of Jess’ parents. How could her pain feel compared to theirs? But they didn’t judge. Instead, they held her in an understanding and loving embrace. After all, Zoey had been a part of their family for fifteen years. With every sob, the pain from her still-healing ribs hurt more and more. Michael stood off to the side and let the three have their moment, and when the tears settled, they began going through some of Jess’ things, letting Zoey take whatever she wanted, which included a hoodie, a dress, a pair of converse shoes, the other half of their friendship bracelet that they had made in 10th grade, and finally a note that she had written in middle school to Zoey, stuffed with the hundreds of other notes in a shoebox under her bed.

The year that followed was tough. Zoey found herself lost for a while. She quit her job at the bar her and Jess used to work at, because working without Jess was too much for her to handle. She didn’t go out anymore, and hardly talked to anyone except for her younger sister, Katie. Growing up she didn’t really get along with Katie. It’s not like she didn’t like her, but Katie was eight years younger than her, plus Zoey was so focused on friends and boys that she didn’t make any time or effort for her younger sister. But after Jess died, Zoey got to know her sister a lot better. She learned that Katie, aside from appearance, was almost exactly like herself. Katie took after their Irish dad in the way of looks with long, dark brown hair and adorable freckles, compared to Zoey’s pale skin and dirty blonde hair. You wouldn’t think they were related by looking at them. But, in personality, they were almost identical. Both were afraid to take risks, shy at first keeping a very small group of friends, but very caring. The complete opposite of Jess who was care-free and miss positivity. Katie was essential in her grieving process.

Anytime someone brought Jess up in conversation, they always skirted around certain topics or words. They always used her name in past tense or said things like, ‘no longer with us’ or ‘passed away’. It was infuriating. One night, Zoey’s parents had invited her, Michael, and Mr. and Mrs. Lewis over for dinner nearly three months in. Her mom had brought Jess up for the fourth time in two hours and said something along the lines of ‘I’m still finding it hard to process Jess not being here anymore.’ And Zoey lost it.

“She’s dead, mom! She died! Okay?” Zoey shouted, pushing away from the table, causing her glass of wine to spill, and darting up the steps to Katie’s room that they used to share when Zoey lived there.

She collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily with tears streaming down her face, angry, when there was a faint knock on the door. Her fists clenched in annoyance, half expecting it to be her boyfriend as Michael had been extra clingy since Jess died, almost as if he was scared of what Zoey would do if she was left alone. Which was stupid. What good would it do anyone if she wasn’t here either? But to her shock and horror, it was Jess’ mom who walked into the room.

Zoey shot up straight and wiped the tears from her face, instantly regretting the outburst she just had. “Mrs. Lewis, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Don’t,” Jess’ mom cut her off, motioning for her to sit down beside her at the edge of the bed. Her expression was warm and not at all angry, “I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of times I wanted to say that over the past three months to anyone who mentions her. I know it’s hard, and I understand.”

Zoey nodded, twisting Jess’ bracelet that was now tightly wrapped around her wrist, a strand of her dirty blonde hair had fallen out of her hair tie and she pushed it behind her ear as Jess’ mom continued, “I only came up here because I thought it’s be a good opportunity to talk to you in private before we go.”

“What about?”

“Well, Mr. Lewis and I were going through some more of Jess’ things last week and we came across a bunch of old ‘Dream Journals’ the two of you wrote in over the years.”

Zoey felt the heat of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, remembering some of the things they wrote in there. The ‘Dream Journals’ were more of a fantasy bucket list than anything, but there were definitely a few inappropriate things involving Jared Padalecki and Jeremy Sumpter in there that she wasn’t too keen on the idea of Jess’ parents reading.

She continued, “Mr. Lewis and I noticed nearly every page was filled with things you two wanted to do in LA.”

It sounded more like a question than a statement. Zoey cleared her throat, “Yeah. We always talked about moving there one day.”

Mrs. Lewis nodded, “I know how much she wanted to go. And I know it probably always seemed out of reach. But, Zoey, I don’t want this to stop you from going. Jess worked hard to save up so you both could go. And I don’t want that to be for nothing. Mr. Lewis and I talked about it and we decided. Jess had managed to save up $18,000, and we wanted you to have it. And we know how expensive LA can be, so we wanted to add an extra $7,000 on top of it. Hopefully that’ll be enough for rent for at least a year.”

Zoey’s mouth fell open, trying to process everything Mrs. Lewis just said. So many questions ran through her mind. How did she manage to save so much on the same salary that she had? Stupid question, she had no bills. She twisted a little too hard on the bracelet, causing it to pinch her wrist and snap her back to reality, “$25,000? To move to LA?”

“It was her dream and she never got to fulfill it. We want you to live your life and hopefully bring a little bit of our baby girl to LA with you in spirit. All that we ask in return is that you try to find peace out there.”

That was the moment of revelation for Zoey. The turning point. The moment that made her get off her ass and stop the pity party. She didn’t want to take Mr. and Mrs. Lewis’ gift for granted. So, Zoey worked her ass off. She got three jobs as a warehouse worker, waitress, and got her old bartending job back to save up even more money. She had eventually even found a room that two girls were renting out in a beautiful skyrise condo on the nicer end of LA, and had got a bartending job lined up and waiting for her when she moved. Zoey vowed to herself to start adapting some of Jess’ personality into her own. She wanted to be more outgoing and try to say ‘yes’ more often, to learn to let her hair down (figuratively speaking), and she wanted to try and be more adventurous. It wouldn’t be an overnight success, but she would try. Baby steps.

Finally, almost a year later, it was time to move. Zoey had finished saying goodbye to her and Jess’ parents. Even Michael had come to see her off. The two of them had broken off their nearly four year relationship a couple months ago, but still remained close. Zoey could tell that he was heart broken, and so was she, but she also knew that things had changed between them after Jess died. They weren’t the same people anymore and it seemed like they were holding on to each other to force the fraction of normalcy they had left. They didn’t deserve that. They deserved to be happy, not just content, but genuinely happy.

They gave each other a tight hug and Michael sweetly kissed her cheek, whispering her a farewell. Saying goodbye to him stung a bit more than she had anticipated. Not because of some kind of lost love, but because he was the only other person in her life who she could talk to about Jess and who would actually understand. He knew Jess in almost the same sort of capacity that Zoey knew her. Poor Michael was forced to be the third wheel so often that he saw sides of her and Jess that no one else could possibly know about. And that sense of understanding comforted her. Now that she was letting that go, it was a little harder for her to leave.

Katie stood off to the side, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, twiddling her fingers together and avoiding her older sister’s gaze. The freckle faced teenager bit the inside of her cheeks, trying to focus on anything other than Zoey leaving. As horrible as this past year has been, she knew that the bond they built would not have happened otherwise. Katie had become just as reliant on Zoey as Zoey had been on her, and for her sister to be leaving was heartbreaking. She held back her emotions, but all Katie wanted to do was cry.

A frown formed on Zoey’s face. Her sister looked like a shelter puppy who’s owner had given up on them and knots formed in her stomach. Should Zoey really be leaving now, just as things started to come together for her? But as Katie’s demeanor cracked and she embraced her sister with a loving and understanding hug, she knew that this was the right move. Zoey still had some healing to do and Katie would always be there. Jess would have wanted this for her.

The silent journey to LA was full of self reflection and internal pep talks. Not only did Zoey want to adapt a little bit of Jess’ personality, but she knew that this move gave her the opportunity to start over and live the life she always wanted. But what was that exactly?

As she neared her destination her heart began thumping faster, nervous for this new chapter. She looked at her surroundings of the bustling city, gorgeous people on every block, recognizing some buildings from her sleuthing around Street View on Google Maps after speaking with Nancy about moving in.

She’s been talking to Nancy via text and facetime over the course of a month since they met online and made plans for her to move in. Nancy seemed like one of the coolest people she had ever talked to. Tan, with the curliest, raven toned hair, she had nine ear piercings and the most interesting eyes-one brown and the other a deep green. She styled herself more on the rocker chic side, but somehow made it look so feminine and fitting. She could be a bit intense at times, but somehow made you feel comfortable and constantly laughing.

Zoey didn’t know much about her other roommate, Aurora, or Rory, as most people called her. She only knew that Nancy had met Rory when she first moved to LA when they were 18 and they were best friends. The two of them just recently moved to their new condo and since Rory was gone most of the week for work and they had a spare bedroom, Nancy felt more comfortable and safe if there were another roommate there so she didn’t have to live on her own.

Nancy and Aurora had an interesting dynamic because they were practically polar opposites. Rory was born and raised in both Paris and a small town in England. She was new on the modeling scene but apparently making her way up the ladder rather quickly. And from the pictures that Nancy showed her, it was no wonder why. She was beautiful, with long brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and the sweetest, freckled baby face that reminded her of her little sister.

The GPS announced that she had reached her destination as she pulled up to the parking garage of the skyrise condominium. Zoey plugged the code that Nancy had given her into the keypad to enter the parking structure and drove in, finding a spot two rows in. She took her phone off of the car charger and checked the time. 3:14 PM, Thursday, April 23rd. It took her almost 4 full days to get here and it almost felt surreal that she had finally arrived. She stepped out of the car, legs buckling a bit from being sat in one position for so long, before stretching and calling Nancy’s phone.

“Are you fuckin’ here?” Nancy’s loud voice boomed excitedly.

Zoey laughed, stifling a yawn, “Yeah. In the parking garage.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you down in the lobby. Same code as the parking structure to get in.”

The call ended and Zoey felt her nerves settling as she glanced down at her wrist adorning Jess’ friendship bracelet. Everything will be fine. She grabbed as many things as she could manage to hold, realizing she’d have to take several trips to completely unload her car, before bounding towards the door. In order to put the code in she had to set some of her bags down, and as soon as it was unlocked, she yanked the door open, scooped up the bags, and headed down a hallway towards the huge, modern lobby. The walls were light gray with twelve foot ceilings lined with abstract black and white artwork and industrial light fixtures, a huge water feature right in the center. It seemed so extravagant that she almost felt silly for wearing the same gray sweatpants, matching small t-shirt layered with a long, white cardigan and white flip flops that she had worn since she left Pennsylvania, her hair now in an insanely messy bun, and not in a cute way, desperate for a shower. She could hear her flip flops echoing throughout the room along with the chime of the elevator door reaching her level.

Nancy stepped out, curly hair framing her face, barely any makeup on but maybe some mascara, and so naturally pretty. She wore an oversized aerosmith shirt that had been splattered in bleach and barely covered her black shorts. Nancy’s eyes widened at the sight of Zoey and she ran over, smiling.

“Hey!” Zoey giggled, hiking up a bag that was slipping down her shoulder.

Nancy gave her a careful one-armed hug so as not to knock down the tower of belongings in Zoey’s arm before grabbing two bags to lighten the load a bit as she was led towards the elevator. Nancy talked her ear off about her day so far and what she had planned for dinner tonight when they reached the twenty second floor and got out. There was a small lounge area in the center of a large landing with a single door on the other three walls, each leading to three separate units. Nancy led her to the unit on the far left - 2201.

“Okay, so the code is pretty easy. It’s all four corners of the keypad. So 1,3,7, and 9,” Nancy punched in. A green light appeared and Nancy pushed the door open, stepping inside. “Zoey’s here!” she called out as Zoey readjusted the bag that was slipping down her shoulder again.

She looked around as she made her way past a small bathroom and suppressed a gasp when she reached the beautiful, modern kitchen that opened up into the living room, the wall lined with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Seeing the apartment in person was a completely different experience than virtually. The pictures didn’t do it justice. How could she afford to stay here? Jess would have lost her mind if she saw this. Zoey was so distracted by the view that she almost didn’t notice the two figures on the couch until they both stood up and started making their way over.

“Zoey! It’s so nice to meet you,” a sweet voice called. Aurora’s accent was an odd mix of French and British, only adding to her appeal.

“Hello!” A soft, deep voice greeted her.

Zoey smiled kindly, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of beauty in the two. Like the apartment, Rory’s pictures did not do her justice. She was more beautiful in person, almost making her feel inferior. And as for the guy beside her, he was scruffy with tousled brown hair and dark green eyes. His perfect white teeth could be seen through his smile and his dimpled cheeks made him even more discernible.

“I’m Harry,” he spoke.

Zoey blinked, so exhausted from the long car journey that she was unable to decide what emotion to feel and unsure of how to respond. Her arms trembled from the weight of her luggage. The trembling caused a shoe to fall out of one of the bags, making a thump on the floor. Harry let out a startled gasp and quickly bent down to grab it, “Here, let me help,” he offered, grabbing the stack of bags out of Zoey’s hand, leaving her with just two on her shoulders. “Where would you like these?”

Before she could answer, Nancy spoke up, “Her room. Come on,” and led the way down another hall, Harry en suite.

Aurora smiled brightly at Zoey, “You must be exhausted,” she said, motioning for Zoey to follow the other two, “I hope the ride in was okay.”

Zoey tightened her bun and wiped beads of sweat from her forehead, glad that Aurora was being nice to her. “Yeah, lots of traffic as soon as I hit the city, though.”

Aurora laughed as they reached the doorframe, “You’ll get used to it.”

As the bedroom came into view Zoey saw Harry gently placing her things at the foot of the full sized bed. Thankfully the room was already furnished with the larger items. He huffed as he stood back up, dusting his hands together before pushing back the strand of hair that had fallen in front of his face. It was only a split second of realization. What the hell was happening? Was this just another dream? How could she be in LA, in a beautiful skyrise condo, with a gorgeous model and the coolest girl she had ever met as roommates, and Harry-fucking-Styles was standing in her bedroom? Surely she was still in her small one bedroom apartment back in Pennsylvania.

“Is this all you brought?” Harry asked, his accent snapping her back to present.

“Oh, uh, no. I have more in my car.”

“Let me help bring your things up,” his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for an answer, but his tone was more insistent.

Zoey hesitated, still in shock from the whole situation. Thankfully Nancy spoke up again before the silence got awkward, “Yeah, let’s go.”

She led the way out of the room followed closely by Harry who smiled nicely at her before his glance shot to Aurora. Zoey was sure he had meant to be more discreet, but she could have sworn he had winked at Rory. And the coy smile on her face seemed to confirm the hunch. Zoey kicked herself for being so awkward, mentally reminding herself to channel Jess’ sociability.

The four of them made conversation while they took a few more trips from the car to the apartment until all of her luggage riddled her room and her arms felt like jello. They all sat lined up on the large, pewter sectional with Zoey on an end cushion, Nancy sat cross-legged in the corner, and Aurora and Harry on the other side, close but with safe distance between them. She found out that Harry was in the middle of a U.S. tour and had a few days break, so he flew here to hang out and would be leaving again first thing in the morning. She also found it interesting to learn how they met each other a few months ago at a charity dinner event that Aurora had attended with Nancy as he plus one. They had all been sitting at the same table together and this was only their third time seeing him in person due to his tour.

“And now I have another friend,” Harry grinned, motioning towards Zoey.

“Yeah, until you scare her away with your horrible dad jokes and eating habits,” Nancy snorted.

Everyone laughed as Harry lightly nudged Nancy’s leg with his foot, “Just because you can’t beat the master at jokes doesn’t mean they’re horrible,” he shook his head in mock disappointment before turning his attention back to her, “So what made you move out here, Zoey? Work?”

Zoey gulped, not wanting to bring up Jess. She knew if she had, she would break down and cry and they didn’t know anything about Jess yet. I mean, how would everyone feel if she blurted out, ‘my dead best friend’s parents insisted I make their daughter’s dream come true and paid for me to move here’?

She quickly composed herself, “Change of scenery. Thought I’d try out a new time zone,” she joked, causing them to chuckle. “I’m trying to be a bit more independent and adventurous,” she admitted.

Harry noticed her hesitation and looked at Rory and Nancy to see if they noticed it, too, but they seemed to be oblivious to it. He shrugged it off. He respected her desire to be more independent; something he understood all too well. The singer listened, impressed as she revealed how many jobs she had been working in order to save just to come here and how proud she was of herself for taking the leap and coming here. Zoey didn’t seem braggy about it, in fact she seemed humbled, crediting her family and even her ex-boyfriend for the support. It wasn’t often you met someone down to earth in LA. It could be because she was so new to it. But Harry thought she would make a great fit with Aurora and Nancy. They had been here for seven years and the Hollywood Bug hasn’t bit them yet. He had his fair share of friends on the west coast, but it was nice to be close with ones who made him feel more grounded like these two.

The four ordered postmates and continued talking and laughing over Nancy’s stories as the sun began to set, casting a beautiful orange and pink hue over the city. As soon as she was done with her chinese food Zoey quickly excused herself to call her family. Once out of sight the three friends turned to each other.

“I like her,” Aurora decided.

Nancy kicked her feet up on the couch where Zoey had been sitting, “Yeah, thank god she’s not like any of the other crazies that messaged us to live here.”

Harry smiled, looking over at Aurora who laughed and he felt a little flutter in his stomach. She was obviously beautiful and fit every characteristic of his type. He could relate to her from living in a small English town but also found her intriguing that she had also been raised in Paris and spoke fluent French - a language he was always attracted by. Aurora and Harry were clearly attracted to each other, but the timing wasn’t exactly right. They met right as Aurora’s modeling career started to take off and just before Harry left for tour. They hadn’t even been on a first date yet, or even kissed for that matter. Just shameless flirting via text.

In an effort to make an excuse to come back again, Harry spoke up, “Well, next weekend I have off. I don’t know what Zoey’s new work schedule will be, but if she’s up for it, how about we take her to Secrets as a little welcoming party? My treat.”

Secrets was a popular bar in the area that had private rooms you could rent for karaoke. Most of the club-goers were known to be gay, though a lot of straight people went with friends if they wanted a fun clubbing experience without any unwanted nuisances. It was always a good time whenever they went.

“That’d be lovely,” Aurora grinned.

“Yeah, sounds fun! I’ll talk to her about it and find out her work schedule,” Nancy agreed.

Harry nodded, excited about another opportunity to hang out with Rory. And honestly, he was excited to get to know Zoey, too. She seemed easy to talk to. And his instincts in people were pretty good.

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kqdehaven17 · 5 years

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In the season of love lost...

I was a different person when we met and so were you. I know our relationship began terribly but I also remember how inevitable it was. Nothing could have kept me from you, it was like being sucked into another universe through a wormhole that just gained strength the more I resisted it. I tried to claw my way back to the world I knew, but it was hopeless. The first night I went home with you, I knew exactly what I was doing. I hated myself, but I couldn’t stop touching you. I should have said no, I should have gotten back on the train and gone home to my boyfriend with my tail between my legs. But I didn’t, I hurled myself unflinchingly into you. And you let it happen, even though you knew better. Because you let it happen, I always considered us equally guilty in the crime of breaking someone else’s heart. That’s not true of course, because I was the one who betrayed him, not you. You tried to tell me ‘no’ later, you tried to walk away, but I yelled after you that I loved you. And that stopped you in your tracks, you couldn’t ignore it, you wanted my love. I remember sitting on the floor of your shitty bachelor pad room with the single bed and the dirty floor, painting in our underwear. You told me later that was the moment you knew I was your best friend, that was the first moment you loved me.

It wasn’t long before I did something to break the fragile trust we had built up. I’ll never forget you smoking angrily on your bed, watching me pack my stuff, not knowing if I had anywhere to go and not caring. I’d never experienced that level of intimacy with anyone. I had taken the coward’s way out with Tristan, I never let him be angry or hurt. I just left. But you made me face you, and him, in the end. That was something you taught me over and over again, if you’re gonna be shitty, do it to someone’s face. I drifted away from you into uncertainty and found my feet, and once again we found our way back to each other. You moved into the basement on 99th and I found a place on 76th. Against all odds you took me back, or maybe we just fell together again, like magnets. I started pushing you to change your circumstances; I was shocked you’d never been to college, didn’t own a phone, had never left the country, and never tried to pay off your debt so you could own a car again. I did it out of love, I wanted you to have the things I considered important. The only thing I regret pushing you into was school because I know how much it stressed you out to keep paying off the loans when you realized school wasn’t for you. But the other stuff was necessary. You needed to grow into new things and change.

I wrestled with my conscience that year, I was stuck on old feelings and bad decisions, living in the past. I never took the space to grieve what I had done and to consider it a blessing rather than a lustful mistake. It took so long for me to move on that it kept ruining everything good with us. I remember you would do the sweetest things like bring me flowers and coffee, write me love notes and poems; New Years Eve we stayed in bed and watched movies while my body raged with a fever, you held me all night, both of us covered in sweat until my fever broke. I woke up that morning and thought, “that’s love”. I knew you loved me but it all felt too much and too soon. I didn’t know what I wanted. I’m sorry I told you it wasn’t a serious relationship. It obviously was. You knew then what we could have had and you fought for it, until I made it too painful.

I spent that summer racked with guilt, and pain, and was completely lost. I went as far away as I could, literally to the other side of the world. I definitely considered our relationship over, but I thought of almost nothing but you. I wanted to tell you everything I was experiencing because you were my best friend. When I came back from Nepal I had no intention of staying, but Kaia so obviously needed help she wouldn’t ask for that I knew I had to stay. I honestly don’t remember why I called you again, something in me just said, “it’s time”. The guy who showed up to meet me at the bar in the village was not the same version of you I remembered. You had dark circles under your eyes, unflatteringly long hair, and you’d lost a lot of your muscle mass. You weren’t necessarily physically attractive to me anymore but it didn’t matter, the spark was still there. I remember laughing at you that you doubted it. I knew the second I saw you I was just as in love with you as ever.

The next few months were some of the happiest I can remember. We started hiking and exploring, truly enjoying each other’s company and not forcing anything. Our first acid trip together was something I can’t forget, the vision I saw of us, dead, but gazing into each other shook me. I thought maybe death wouldn’t be so bad, especially if you were with me. I never felt closer to you, because we were growing together as people. It was beautiful. Every time we had to say goodbye and go back to our separate lives became harder and harder... And then came the wretched Fair time. Once again I let my guilty conscience about Tristan ruin the good stuff between us. I’m sick of recounting how much I’ve screwed up, just for the record. I shut you out and that was my mistake, of course. But somehow, I pulled a proposal out of that shitstorm. I remember seeing you that day for the first time, really clearly. You were at peace with whatever I decided, if I was gonna break up with you, then that was that and you were gonna keep being you. But you showed up one last time, with your heart on your sleeve, ready for me to break it. I chose you right then and there. I wanted you, everything about you. I found your stupid confidence charming, really in that moment I found everything about you charming, especially your cheshire cat grin (high as a fucking kite). I had no idea I could cry with joy, but I found out that day. It was the best day of my life.

Oh, my love, if I could go back in time to just one moment, that night is it. I wouldn’t go back into Fair and hang out with friends I barely knew. I’d go with you, I’d go anywhere you wanted. We should have been together that night, we should have fucked under the stars and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. We should have talked about our future and what our children’s names would be. We should have become one.

But that’s not what happened. I went back into the Fair, tingling with anticipation and satisfaction. I had someone who really got me, who loved me unconditionally. And then I started getting greedy, I thought I could have you and spend intimate time with people I was attracted too. Nothing sexual happened with Gabe or anyone else but I was really just on one to think that I wasn’t crossing any boundaries. I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about me. Please, forgive me. I remember we had that big fight where it was made really clear to me that even though I thought I understood what it meant to be committed to someone - I really didn’t have the first clue. No one thought it was a good idea for us to get married and I’d like to say I couldn’t have cared less but that wasn’t true. I feared they were right. My guilty conscience told me they were right. So I didn’t bring it up. And neither did you. We never made a single definitive plan to get married. But you didn’t leave me, and life kept happening, sweeping us up in it’s wake. We moved in with Kaia and everything got harder after that.

Part of me wishes we had moved when I wanted to after that first trip to Bend, left Kaia to sort out her own mess. But knowing what I know now, I realize how necessary we were to her finding a way out. So it’s good we stayed in Eugene even if we were miserable. There were some bright spots. In the middle of the night, when I can’t sleep, I replay that morning in the car when you asked me to marry you. It’s so clear I feel like I could paint the scene down to each pore on your face. I felt intensely vulnerable sleeping in my car, disappointed in my so-called friends not offering us a place to stay. I felt embarrassed that I didn’t seem capable of cultivating strong friendships the same as you. I wanted to hide physically and emotionally. But you made me feel safe, you told me you’d be my family... and after that I knew I didn’t need a thing in the world as long as I had you.

I can only imagine what happened after that because you never told me what what going on with you emotionally. We just buckled down into saving money and making it through each day at jobs we hated. I think you went to your dad, really excited about us getting married (wanting to connect with him), and he was not excited for us. He told you that marrying a non believer would mean you would’t go to heaven. Stop me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing that was at least his implication, if not his actual words. And you were hurt by that, judging by how long it took for it to blow up in our faces. If you’d thought there was nothing to it, you would have been like “Hey babe, my dad said the craziest thing...”. But you really considered it to be a serious problem. One day you were someone I knew and loved, and the next second you were a man I didn’t recognize. I always thought your interest in Christianity was academic like mine, I never thought there was any weight behind it. You shocked me. You told me I was going to keep you from God. I want you to know, in case there’s any doubt in your mind, that that was the most hurtful thing you ever said to me. It doesn’t matter how you meant it, the implication was that I don’t want you to know God and more than that, that more than that, I couldn’t know God because there is something wrong with me.

I know I said a lot of nasty things in response to that revelation. I was hurt, I was scared, and I was afraid you were right. I also didn’t believe you because there had been so little evidence that pointed to you being a man of faith, if anyone should have noticed before this it should have been me. For years I was the person you spent the most time with, but were evidently the least honest with. I refused to let you have the last word, I could not and would not accept that we were over. I wormed my way back into your heart and your bed. The puppy was really the glue. I couldn’t leave the two of you alone. I loved him desperately from the first moment I saw him. And I saw an opportunity to stay in your life because I knew you’d need help. I poured myself into caring for him, I was in love, we both were. I look back at the pictures and I remember a lot of good times but also how painful it was. I used Habby as a deflector from our problems, I put him between us and the truth so there could be the illusion of happiness. Fighting to keep you without dealing with the truth meant I was putting my heart out on my sleeve to be broken, just like you’d done for me.

I really didn’t mean to take you from anything, I just couldn’t handle that Church we went to and it was easier to go back to how things were than to fight for something I didn’t know I wanted. If you had taken the lead and made sure I knew the desire for God wasn’t going away, I would have followed you. It would have brought us closer together, and obviously closer to God. I have no doubt about that. But once again, that isn’t what happened. Those months I lived at the River Road house, are the “dark months” in my memory, I was so ready to get out of the life we’d been living and move on from difficult times. Do you remember living off 7 Eleven coffee and old pizza from my work? Do you remember living at my mom’s and then at Rob’s when there was nowhere else for you to go? How about that hotspot Habby got from being left alone too long? The good times couldn’t come soon enough...I don’t regret the decision to move to Bend at all, and I’m glad I had the confidence to tell you that I didn’t care if you stayed in Portland but I was going to Bend, and I’d make sure there was room if you wanted to come too. It was a gesture of love on my part, because in my heart there’s always room for you wherever I go. I didn’t let our relationship make the decision for me for the first time. I left the door ajar. And you sailed right through it.

If I think about it now, I get really angry because emotionally you were so distant from me the past year it was like we weren’t together. I barely remember this year with you. What I remember is all the time I spent with Habby, and wishing you were there, not just physically but emotionally. You’d shut down to be with me, always giving the bare minimum, not letting yourself feel what you were really feeling. And I didn’t recognize it. I knew something was going on, but I didn’t want to know the truth. So I just hung on, doing my best to make it through each day without feeling really loved or appreciated or wanted. I told myself that this was part of being in a relationship, and it is, the ups and downs are real things you have to ride out. But it was more than that, it was a festering problem just waiting to burst through to the surface. If I’d had any sense (which by now should be really apparent that I don’t have), I would have pushed you to tell me what was wrong. I should have faced the truth. I don’t have another excuse other than I was scared to lose you, lose the family I was sure we were. I held on through all the doubt and insecurity because there were still little glimpses of the love we shared. I thought you’d come back to me, if you got the right job or enough time off, or a few new friends. I didn’t try to fix you, I just went into survival mode trying to weather out the storm until the sun came out again and you’d realize what we had was special and worth treasuring.

The sun never came out, not for me at least. How was I supposed to know you were looking for an excuse to leave me? How was I supposed to know that saying no to Jesus when you called on Easter was the nail in our coffin? How was I supposed to know that fighting you on God meant I was breaking us up? I couldn’t have known, I was just desperate not to hurt you like I’d done so many times before. I wanted to give you the space to come into your spirituality without my interference. I was moved by your experiences and I couldn’t find the words to tell you. I was afraid of admitting I was wrong or didn’t know what I was talking about. I was definitely afraid to admit to feeling something new. I really thought that I was just giving you the space to become you, and that I would be given the same grace. I wanted the space and time to come to God on my terms, not on yours. But you wouldn’t allow that. You were distancing yourself from me more and more, while also saying how great things could be between us if only I said yes to Jesus. I wanted to. I can’t tell you how much. But I didn’t want it to be for you. I wanted it to be for me and I thought you understood that. I thought you weren’t going anywhere. I was wrong.

To me, there hasn’t been a question of us being together for a long time, not really. I fantasized about being with other people when I was miserable, but it was just that, a fantasy. I chose you a long time ago, and I kept choosing you no matter what. I wanted to have your kids and raise dogs, buy land and build a house, explore the world, and plan for our future. I wanted to soak up every ounce of love you had to give and give it right back. I wanted to grow in God together. You were it for me and time, religion, sickness, being poor...none of that could change how I felt. I was going to tell you that when I came back from the Fair this year. But I never got the chance. I thought you just wanted to more space, I didn’t hear that it wasn’t temporary even if that’s what you were saying.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. I was in shock. I didn’t believe you were going anywhere. I still didn’t believe it when Jake told me you’d moved to California. I don’t believe it right now as I’m typing this. I’ve gone through all kinds of coping mechanisms to try to come to terms with it. After you left: I kept going to Church, I joined a discipleship group, and read my Bible; I also did everything from being black out drunk to sober for a month; I tried drinking only smoothies and working out everyday, I tried new hikes, I tried dogsitting, I made new friends, I made new art, I prayed, I begged God to come into my life, I wrote letters, I stayed in bed for days at a time, I ate nothing but junk, I ate meat, I ate Vegan.... and more than all this I kept showing up to work and putting a smile on my face. None of this really helped me cope with losing you and Habby, my family, and our future. My heart breaks all over again every time I think about how I don’t know you anymore because you won’t let me. I don’t have my safe place with you, I don’t have a home with you, I don’t have a future with you. You chose not to be with me. And God agreed.

You see, you may not have realized it but when you were going through all this, but my dumb ass was falling in love with you all over again, and falling harder than I ever had before. You were beautiful again, you were hopeful, your eyes were shining. We spent more quality time together than we had in a year. You were sweet and thoughtful, assertive, and emotional. I could see you becoming all the things I’d always knew you could be and had been waiting for patiently. I wanted it to be what it could have been, a time we connected on an emotional and spiritual level rather than just a physical one. I had hope, you let me have hope by including me in your journey. I was excited to move in a new direction and move out of the dark times. I knew somewhere deep down that we really were breaking up, but I comforted myself by treating it as hypothetical and you played along. I thought even if we did break up we would be ok. The second most hurtful thing you have ever said to me was that you could marry the first nice, Christian girl you meet. You said you were ready. That sunk my heart like a rock.That should have told me everything I needed to know. But it didn’t, because as noted above, I have zero good sense. I really thought that you valued me more than this, that all the stuff we went through and supported each other through meant something, but all you saw me as was a road block. And based off of what she said to me, you see me as something even worse, a thing to be pitied.

I thought I’d never run out of chances to love you better, but I have. I’m at the end so much sooner than I thought. I’m shaken, unmistakably, down to my core. I heard God say a single word to me, and it was just my name. That keeps me holding on. When I think about giving up, I remember God speaking to me. It’s a thin wisp of hope on an otherwise desolate landscape of uncertainty, but it’s there. How am I supposed to go on with my life, knowing what we had, what we could have had? How am I supposed to ever be someone else’s love when I belong to you? How can you not be mine? How can you already be someone else’s? I try to make the connections in my brain to accept the new reality but I can’t. I want to wake up already. I want to wake up curled next to you in our bed with our dog at our feet. But I keep waking up to an empty bed and an empty house that has your stuff in it and every now and then I think I hear Habby running through the house to come kiss my cheek...

It’s a new kind of emptiness I’ve never felt. I’ve been told every fucking cliche you could possibly think of: “There’s plenty of fish in the sea”, “When God closes a door, he opens a window”, “There’s someone better for you out there”, “That just means he wasn’t the one”, “Just move on”...etc. None of it makes me feel any better because nothing anyone could possibly say will help and all those well meaning people know that. The emptiness comes from feeling unloveable. Superficially, this feels like validation that I’m unloveable and thinking back on my thoughts and decisions the last few years is hardly reassuring. But I have to push past that. For some reason I never thought you’d leave me unless I did something really bad, but the small things add up. You don’t just leave someone one day and not look back unless from your perspective it wasn’t worth it, wasn’t fixable. I see that on the surface it’s about Jesus, but underneath that it’s maybe about the fact you finally loved yourself enough to decide we both deserved better. Maybe you just think you deserve better, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I do too. I’m taking it day by day on building real self confidence that doesn��t rely on anyone else, and so I’m gonna say I deserve more even if I don’t quite believe it yet.

Who I am now is at least on the road to being the best version of myself. I am so grateful for all the things that lead here even if it’s not where I wanted to end up. I shared the most beautiful moments of my life with you. We were magic...sometimes. There was always something that kept us from fitting together completely. I’ll take responsibility for most of that, but you also withheld. You withheld a lot, all the time. I knew you had a lot to give but I didn’t push you too much because I wanted it to be freely given, and I didn’t really feel like I deserved it any way, just wanted it. Whenever I got something from you that you didn’t want to give, it always felt terrible. My hope for you is that you’ve found the person who you can give to freely. It’s no way to live, being with someone who doesn’t think you deserve everything they have to offer. I wish we had been that for each other. I always find myself a few steps behind where I need to be for the situations I find myself in. I’m ready to catch up! The best thing you ever did for me was to show me how big my heart is and how much I can love. It brought me closer to myself, and to God. I hope I did the same for you. Wherever you are in the world, whoever you’re with, and whatever you’re doing...know I love you unconditionally, that is unchangeable. The love isn’t gone, but it is lost.

#lostlove

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