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The night at Harry's house was eventful and joyful. He is in fact a good cook and i have to say that i didn't expect that. He is an A list celebrity and i thought that he has people cooking for him whatever time of the day he wanted. But, no. He is the most down to earth celebrity i have ever met. He told me that his family was the reason for that. He talked about them with so much love that i felt jealous. I always wanted to have a family like that on my own. I always wanted a loving mother and a father that was there for me to help me when i needed him. Don't get me wrong, my siblings are the best people in the world but they can replace what a parent feels like. All of my friends have families that love them. I remember them at school, their parents were there in the school events and when i looked at where my parents were supposed to sit, the sits were always empty. They were never there. I was feeling that i have done something to deserve how they treated me, but after years of therapy and conversations i eventually understood that i wasn't the problem. When i had to turn my back at them, i felt guilty but all of my friends, my siblings even, told me to let them go. I still feel guilty, I can still feel the emptiness and i can't feel that one day everything will be alright.
The Bike was one of my favorites poems. I have written it at a time when i felt the the whole world was crashing around me, when i felt that the whole world was against me. The poem had the phrase "I had that bike, that one with the pink bow and the white basket, that one that could take me to a place where nothing was that big of a deal." That phrase was explaining my whole childhood. We may share a name with my parents but that doesn't make us a family. I understood that the hard way.
Today i have to write, i have inspiration to write something. And i write three poems. I am not sure what the theme of the book is going to be and I'm pretty sure that i will have trouble in the near future to find the name that gives my work justice. I have written poems that i am proud now and I'm pretty sure that i will be proud of the things I'm writing now. I haven't heard from Harry all day today. I'm pretty sure that he's working as well. He said to me yesterday that my advice was helpful enough for him to write half a song. I believe that he's going to write the other half today. I know him for almost a week and one thing I've learned about him is that he's a perfectionist. He told me that he wants the final product to be something he is really proud of, something that he would listen to and don't find it weird and stupid. He told me that he wanted to make a happy record, a record that was different from his last one. And I know that he will do it. I said to him that even a sad song with the right tune can be a song to dance to. And he responded that I'm a genius. I don't even know what I said to be called that but I believe him.
He messaged me a while ago. He told me that tomorrow we should have some breakfast together so I invited to my house. I knew what to cook. Some pancakes will do the job. I believe that he will eat them. The recipe is vegan so I'm not that anxious about it.
The night was great. The weather was great too, a little hot for England but I liked it. The summer is almost over and I love that the autumn is only a couple of weeks away. My birthday comes as well and I know that in a few days my sister will call me and tell me that she will organize everything for me. It's part of the celebration at this point.
The morning found me cooking. I told Harry to be here at 9 o'clock and I know that he will be here earlier. We are the same at many things. The sleeping schedule is one of them. We are both early risers. Well, we don't even sleep enough but that's something I don't even like to discuss. I bet we are going to fix this as the time goes by.
The pancakes are ready and are accompanied by some fresh flowers from the garden. The house I am living in has a small garden on its own and I really like the kind of flowers that the owners have there. I'm glad for this little house and the things it can provide me. Maybe I have written a poem for it.
YOU ARE READING
Little Freak (h.s)
FanfictionI saw his face and got inspired in a minute. I knew that I could write millions of poems just for his eyes. I wrote them. He was my muse. I was his muse. We inspired each other but nothing stays the same as it was once. Harry Styles is a famous sing...
