with love, louis - chapter four

Its been four months since Harry left , and Louis is finding coping difficult. A prisoner of his own mind, he agrees to attend therapy sessions once a week at the request of his friends, in which the doctor suggests writing letters to Harry to help him move on. Only the letters bring Louis deeper into his mind, where life with Harry never ended.

Hello my love, I.. I dont know where you went? You did come back, I am quite certain of that, and I cant be convinced that I just dreamt the whole thing up. Liams come to that assumption, but I suppose so much should be expected. Hes the realistic type, you know Liam, and a life in which I am haunted by your spirit is a little too Hollywood for him. This whole situation reminds me strikingly of the movie Ghost. I understand that Im the more feminine out of the two of us, but Im no Demi Moore, and you are certainly no Patrick Swazye. You are coming back, yes? I dont know what Ill do if the answer to that is no, because now Ive been slapped with the reality that you really are gone, and you arent coming back, not the full you anyway. You cant come back into my life as a spirit, tell me youre dead, and leave again and not return. Thats inhumane, and I know you Harry, I really do. You are a good person, and you wouldnt do that. Still, it has been a few days. I havent left. I havent even made my usual rounds through the building. I just dont want to miss you if you appear, and what if I was out, and I wouldnt be far, but you wouldnt exactly know where to find me would you? Well, thats assuming youd come looking. No. Its best just to stay put and wait. Youll know back. Youre a good person. Youll definitely come back. All of this is not to say Ive been fully alone, though. Eleanor did come by the other day, which was definitely out of the blue, and quite unexpected. I did let her in, which is something I dont normally do. Zayn and Niall came by a few days ago unexpected, and I was so upset I slammed the door in their faces. Zayn let me have it the next morning when they came over with Liam and Danielle for breakfast. He was rather upset, but as was I. I am your best fucking mate, he spit at me and I slowly sipped my tea. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to get a rise out of me, because thats something they dont really see, I suppose. I shut them out more often than I should, and its not that Im upset with them per say, but they do have a connection to you, which in turn is hard for me to.. well, look at them the same I suppose. Everything is tied to you honestly. This flat, all the furniture, and the memories about how we bought them together, even the flat screen television, and how you really insisted that we needed it. We didnt even have furniture yet, Harry! You were sold though. Why were we even at that electronics store? I dont remember the process to getting there, but we browsed the entire store, and just as I turned my back you were gone. Like a child you are, Harry, but never once did it bother me. I circled the store, refraining the urge to shout your name and cause a scene, and I finally found you at the back wall staring lovingly at the biggest television set Ive ever seen. I placed my hand on your shoulder, and I laughed loudly when you faced me, the dopiest look on your face. It was a television, Harry, and to be honest it didnt get much use, but you wanted it so we bought it. I hate that stupid television now. Ive considered taking a bat to it, but that might alarm the neighbors. And I do like them. I seem to have gotten off track. Where was I? Oh, yes, Zayn.

He snapped at me! Were best mates, he yelled. He yelled it more than once, actually, and Niall left the sofa to join us in the kitchen. He took his standard spot beside Zayn, and rubbed soft circles into his back. I could feel my stomach tying itself in knots. Watching them together gets increasingly tougher, although I am glad they have each other. He leaned in closely to Zayn, its ok. No, Zayn shouted. He pushed away from Niall. You know Zayn. He doesnt yell, and he doesnt push, and he most definitely doesnt do those things to Niall. Bless him, though, he stood his ground, pulled Zayn in close, wrapping himself up in Zayn, and taking away the bad nature. It seems to work that way with them. Niall is willing to take all the bad energy Zayn is putting out, and pass on Nialls usual cheeriness. Zayn was still upset with me, of course, but he did lower his voice, which I appreciated. Ill have to thank Niall later. Maybe Ill write him a letter. I apologized to Zayn and told him I had just woken up, and hed have to forgive me for my attitude. He accepted, and we continued on with breakfast as if the tiff never happened. I did lie to Zayn, Im afraid to say. I had been awake for a few hours, its just, as I said, and they remind me of you. They worry about me, and they say they dont, but its written all over their faces, but I am a grown man and I can take care of myself. They babysit me. I am not a child. I associate myself with the neighbors because they dont know who you are, or well a few of them do, but we only just moved into this flat before you, uh, passed. They dont ask about you. They dont ever mention the name Harry. Thats what I need. Not saying that I dont like hearing your name, because sometimes Ill sit with myself and just say it. I like the way your name sounds coming out of my mouth. I honestly believe it was the name I was supposed to say for the rest of my life. That name belongs with me. Your name. You. I really got very off subject this time. Well, anyway, I dont let people in often, but I did let Eleanor in. Im not sure why, we havent spoken since we split, and we didnt end well anyway, but she was just standing in the doorway and she had a box of Yorkshire Tea. I have a weakness, and it is Yorkshire Tea, so alas she was in. She made us both a cup, only really speaking to me when she needed to know where the cups and sauce pans were. She found the spoons without my help, laughing at the fact they were in the same location as in our previous flat. She remembered that, which amazed me, I dont know why, but it did. She looked nice. Nice, happy, and healthy, all of which pleased me, because I never wanted to permanently hurt her, I am glad the breakup didnt have a lasting effect. We retrieved to the sitting room, where we drank our tea in silence, but the company was nice. Dont ask me why I felt more comfortable with Eleanor than I do with my best friends, because I cant give you the answer. Ive been trying to figure it out myself, and I was a bit worried that maybe I dont consider the lads my best mates anymore, but I know that I do, and they are. Somethings just off I suppose. Oh really, who am I kidding at this point, everythings off. Youre dead. The rest of my life is going to be off. We did eventually speak, Eleanor and I. Not about anything in specific, but at one point she did pull a large engagement ring out of her pocket, and told me the wedding was next month. She told me a bit about her fiance, who is a football player, and theyve been together a brief six months, which I voiced concern about. It just seemed a bit soon, honestly, six months. When you know you know, Louis, she told me and I did agree. Still it was strange. I dont know why it was strange. Maybe it was strange because she was telling me about it so candidly, like she knew I was dying to know, which I wasnt, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt and smiled sweetly. Maybe it was strange because Ive been confined in this flat for four months, only associating myself with the other boys and Danielle, and roaming the complex once

a day and striking up a conversation with whomever crossed my path. Aside from that, though, Ive been confined. It is my own doing. Its strange to think other people, such as Eleanor, are out living their lives, and getting engaged to football players theyve been seeing for six months. Strange, yet I am pleased for her. You seem a bit put off, she commented, which annoyed me. We were getting along fine, until she had to go and be herself. I sighed deeply and laughed. At that point I think she knew our tea date was done, and she packed up her things, letting me know she was leaving to tea as she knew it was my favorite. I led her to the door, and she pulled me in for a hug. This hug had been the first in some time, the last one being from the neighbor who had heard me screaming in my sleep, and before that I think the last hug was you. Hmm. Well, she hugged me, told me she did miss me, and you, and hoped shed see me soon. Im not so sure about that last bit, but really, it was nice to see her for a moment. I am not a complete shut out, you see, I do appreciate company, but at my own choosing. But Eleanor is gone, and I realize how truly alone I feel. Its sad, if you think about it, that a person that Im not particularly close with anymore, and although I was at one point, made me feel more of anything than my close friends do. Theres Liam, Danielle, Zayn, and Niall, and they are a part of my life and I dont want them out of it, but how do I tell them I feel nothing for them anymore. They are just people that were once a part of my life, and I cant look at them without seeing flashes of you. I look at Liam and I see your cheekiness. I see the way you two interacted, and your smile is brought to my mind, and I dont want it there anymore if Im honest, I really dont. Id like it to leave. I look at Niall and I remember your laugh, because despite you being gone, hes still a particularly happy person, which does upset me. Sometimes I have to stop myself from punching him in the jaw and yelling something along the lines of, STOP BEING SO FUCKING HAPPY, but I am pleased he maintains that good heart. But you two laughed quite a lot together, so I see him, and even without his laughter, your booming laughter is brought to my mind and I would like that to leave even more than your smile. Then theres Zayn, and I sense in comparison to the others, he probably knows how I feel with the missing of you. You two were rather close, and in fact a lot of the time I was jealous of your lunch outings and how you two would go out to the pub, and its not that I had anything to worry about, but there was a connection between the two of you. A connection that maybe I didnt have with you, or maybe I didnt have with him, but I had a jealous heart, and I suppose I can openly admit that now. Although I suppose it was quite obvious. Then because Im thinking about Zayn, and Im thinking about you, I think of all the times you went to the pub together, and Id usually go out with Liam. Wed meet back at the flat, and somehow, usually despite you being much further away from home than I was, you are always there first. I fumble with my keys to unlock the flat, which Harry really, you could have left it open for me, but I digress. I fumble with the keys, and finally after what seems like a solid ten minutes I get it unlocked, and fall gracefully into the flat. The lights are all out, which makes me think Ive actually beaten you home for once in our life, then I hear your cackling. I hear it close, and I laugh to myself, because youve turned this into a game. You are hiding by the coffee table and the sofa, and I can hear you, and I know thats where you are, because thats where you always are. Come out, come out, wherever you are, I call, laughing. More laughter. I lock the door behind me and lean against it. Waiting, because I know you are going to pop up the minute I start walking. Im drunk enough too that Im bound to crash into every surface on the way to you, so I wait. It feels like forever, and I just want you where I am, but you are so far away. Just as Im about to take a step away from the door I hear your quick

movement, and in what was probably a millisecond, you are from your hiding place to being pressed against me. Rather impressive for someone whos drunk. I can smell the liquor on your breath as you lean in closer and press your lips to mine and I feel the smile on your lips, and Im already smiling ear from ear because youre just so fucking cute with your hiding, but now here you are against me, and my whole body needs you. Its physically impossible for me to smile any larger, but I feel the ends of my lips continue to tug as you place your lips to mine and I part my lips, and your tongue slides in. Im so in love with you, you whisper running your hands under my shirt and up my chest, reaching my neck and placing your long fingers around it. No pressure added, just holding it, and its like this one moment of soon to be passion is stuck in my brain forever. I press my lips to yours again, harder this time, and take my hands through your mop of curls. You have removed your hands from my neck, and out from under my shirt, and are now pulling at the hem on the back of my shirt, pulling it up over my head. I do the same to you, and youre pulling me hard into your body. As we kiss you start to walk backwards, and I follow the lead. Theres no point in pretending were going to make it to the bedroom, and youre full on laughing at this point, and the only noises Ive made are my moans and sighs of approval at the way your tongue is massaging mine, but you keep hushing me. That makes me laugh, and before I know it we both stumble, and land on the floor just behind the couch. Youve hit your head in the fall, and Im showering you with kisses any and everywhere I can touch, and before I know it you slip out from under me, tell me youll be right back, and my whole body pulses with want for you. And honestly, its been a minute at best, but my body is just yearning for yours. A feeling that I remember, but I laugh about now, because if my body was yearning for you then, well what do I call what it feels now? Because I miss you so much that it actually physically pains me. I miss your touch, and your smile, and your general cheeky disposition. I miss how in love with you I was, and how I never thought I could love someone the way I loved you, and how I never will love anyone else that way again. It isnt fair, if you think about it. That you meet this one person, and you arent expected to fall for them in such a way that breathing the same air as them just feels better, and then that one person is fucking ripped from you. And despite all the things I said earlier in this letter, about how I hope you come back, and I know youll come back, does it really matter? You may be the same, and you are in the same clothes that I remember, and you smell the same, and when you kissed me you tasted the same, but you are dead. I am expected to continue with this letter writing facade, and eventually get over you, but Im not going to. And if you are dead, and youll come to me when you feel I need you most, then I assume Ill always need you. I need you now, and I need your touch, and I need to hold you, because a world in which Im not holding you or completely wrapped in your presence is not a world Id like to live in. Id rather be dead. Be dead with you. With Love, Louis