I don't like remembering. Remembering makes me feel things. I don't like feeling things.
☆ ☆ ☆
Arwen Milton
I must've fallen asleep on Binx's carpet. Snuggled up with Sully in my arms, his own little hands clutching onto me as if I was going to slip away. My back was uncomfortably leaning against the drywall, there was such an ache coursing through me as I was in this position, spending hours awkwardly hunched over with a hand holding onto Sully and the other grasping Binx's little fingers.
I probably could've switched position in my sleep but I guess I was too tired to be moving around at the dead of night. I was too tired to really care of the damage I was doing to my back, and maybe the pain in my back was distracting the pain in my mind.
And it wasn't the pain that woke me up, it wasn't the striking ache down my spine that startled me awake. It wasn't the children quietly babbling between themselves and it wasn't their delicate snores.
It was Harry.
Harry was the one to wake me up.
"What are you doing on the floor?" he looked down at me with a frown. His hair disheveled and dark bags hang under his eyes.
It takes me a while to come around to my surroundings, I thought it was still night time, so I was shocked to see the autumn sun streaming through the window, the stars replaced with clouds and it's the first time I've actually seen sunshine in over a week.
Perhaps it was a sign.
"What?" I pull myself up a little, having to blink a few times to clear the blurriness from my vision. Was he even standing in front of me right now or was I dreaming this?
"Why are you on the floor?" He repeats his question, standing awkwardly before me.
It was a dumb question coming from him.
He was the reason I was on the floor. He was the reason that I had to sit and hum his children to sleep. Because he wasn't here.
There was no 'good morning' or 'thank you so much for taking the kids last night, I owe you'. There was no questions of how they were, no explanation as to where he had ran off to. Just a question of why I was on the floor.
"I must've fallen asleep" I carefully pull my hand away from Binx's so I could rub my eyes. My brain slowly waking up a little more as I do.
"Where did you go?" I ask him the big question, using both arms to hoist Sully up onto my chest so I could be a little more comfortable.
"It doesn't-" he goes to pick out an excuse, but before I can even let him finish his sentence a scent of something not so welcome is taking over my senses and I'm looking at Harry with wide eyes.
He wouldn't. He couldn't. Not whilst the family was grieving. Not whilst I was looking after his children.
I had just assumed he went out to clear his head and ended up at his mums house or maybe even his sisters. I had thought that he went out for a drive and wound his way up at Niall's to scribble down some song lyrics that he might have running around his mind.
But no.
"You've been drinking" I declare the obvious. Just the state of him should've been enough to know that his actions didn't seem innocent. He looked a mess. And he smelt like one too. The scent of whiskey wafted off of him and lingered in Binx's room. A smell that a child should never have to inhale, especially not in their own bedroom.
He had been out, losing his mind instead of clearing his mind. Intoxicating his body instead of working through his emotions.
I'm sure it was normal to have this moment in time whilst grieving. They say there are seven stages of grief. First comes the shock, the numbness and the emptiness, then comes the denial, the disbelief that it had actually happened, then the anger, which is where I believed Harry was currently sitting at, then the bargaining, depression, the acceptance and then the processing.
Grief was not one steady line, it was a rollercoaster of up and downs, or so I had been told anyway. At the moment, it seemed to just be a journey full of downs, but I had hope that eventually as the sun shines, life will begin to pick back up and I can piece together my broken parts, slowly coming to terms with all that I had been through and all that I now had to live with.
It was a lot. And I could hardly blame Harry for dealing with his emotions in this way. Going out and drinking was never my style anyway, but I'm sure if it was, that's how I'd clear my mind. It's an easy fix, an easy thing to run off and do. It cures the pain but only temporarily.
"What's it to you?" He looks down and me and suddenly I'm feeling vulnerable with his intoxicated ways. Suddenly I feel like I'm under a microscope and I'm ten years old all over again, with a man towering above me, stinking of alcohol.
"You're children needed you" I keep my calm composure, but there was no hiding the anger I felt towards Harry for just leaving his children with me whilst he went and got hammered without a care in the world.
His children had already lost one parent, they didn't need to lose another. They needed Harry here with them, they needed to feel him close and they needed him to be available for every one of their needs. They had already lost so much, they didn't need to be abandoned by their father whilst he drank his feelings away.
Though it had only been the once, as far as I was aware, who's to say what he had been doing behind closed doors whilst the kids were sleeping. Who's to say that he hadn't been keeping a secret stash in the kitchen.
"They were fine" he deadpans and it really really bugs me.
He wasn't here to know. He didn't know if they were fine or not because he wasn't answering his phone. He didn't call to check in on them, he didn't pick up when I called him relentlessly. He wouldn't know if they were okay, he wouldn't know if they cried themselves to sleep or if I was up with them all night, trying my hardest to get them to settle. He wouldn't know because he wasn't here and he didn't ask.
"No you don't get to do that" I stand from the floor with a light huff, leaving Binx's room to put Sully in his own room, not wanting to wake the two of them as Harry and I lose our cool at each other.
I shouldn't have been left with those children whilst Harry ran off to a bar to drink his feelings away. I shouldn't have ever been put in that position.
If he had just asked and told me where he was going and when he'd be back, then maybe this issue wouldn't stand. Maybe then I'd have a little more understanding and sympathy for him. But right now I was mad. I was pissed off.
"I literally went for one drink- you're blowing this out of proportion" he waves his hand off in a sluggish way, telling me that the alcohol was still running through his veins.
It wasn't just one drink. It never is. It's never just one.
"Harry you left me with your kids without hardly asking if I could take them- you didn't tell me I was staying the night, you didn't tell me where you were going" I point out his flaws and it feels horrible to do so. It feels horrible to pinpoint him in that way, but I couldn't let this slide. "You could've been dead in a ditch for all I know!" I exasperate whilst standing in his hallway, watching him fight his internal demons as I speak.
"Would've been better for us all if I was" he mumbles under his breath and I nearly miss it. In fact, I have to double check with myself that that is what he had actually said and my brain wasn't making things up.
"You don't mean that" I shake my head at him, the tears already springing into my eyes. He couldn't mean that, not when his children were sleeping in the other room. He couldn't mean that when there were little lives that depended on him to stay alive.
Whether he meant it or not, I was telling myself he didn't. It gave me peace of mind to know he didn't mean it. I told him that he didn't mean it so I didn't have to hear him tell me that it was true. I didn't want to have to hear him tell me that that is what he truly believes.
I don't want to know any different. I don't want to hear any different. I know my fragile heart would barely be able to cope with the reality of his emotions.
"Maybe" he mumbles to himself all emotion and energy far from his body.
There's nothing left of him. He's been eaten alive and at this point he just accepts it. It accepts his fate and there is nothing he can do now apart from letting the demons take over and the monsters make homes in his scars, filling him with nothing he needs to feel.
Nobody needs to feel this way. Nobody needs to experience this much hurt. Harry could've gone a whole lifetime without feeling this way. He should've been able to escape this feeling.
"Harry" I look at him seriously. No longer wanting to argue with him, but just wanting to talk like adults. Though I was a little fearful of where this could go and the things he might share with me, this wasn't about me. This was about Harry and his emotions and the thoughts that were swimming around in his head.
It was selfish of me to ignore that, just because it was something I didn't want to hear.
I didn't want to hear that Jazz had died, but I did. You can't stop the waves from coming. They don't stop for anyone.
"Why did you go to the bar tonight?" I ask him the big question, yet I'm afraid of the answer he's going to give me. I wanted Harry to feel safe around me, I wanted him to trust me. I wanted him to be able to feel like he could talk to me about anything. I was here for him and I wanted him to acknowledge that, instead of pushing me away all the time.
"Why do you think?" He snaps back at me, clearly not in the mood to entertain my interrogation.
He would speak when he was ready, I got that. I wasn't going to push him into something he was uncomfortable with.
I roll my lips into my mouth and give him a slow nod, "well the kids were alright, cuddly but they got to sleep okay- I'll um- I'll just go and kiss them goodbye and I'll be out of your hair" I speak awkwardly, feeling a little silly now standing here in my pyjamas. I feel like a child.
"Arwen" he shakes his head and takes a breath after uttering my name, I turn around, silently hoping he would speak to me, silently hoping he would let his walls down. But he does. "Uh- thank you" he nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down at the floor, avoiding all eye contact.
Apologies were always easy for Harry- he'd apologise for things that weren't even his fault, he'd apologise left right and centre.
But things were different now.
Things weren't the same as they once were.
I creep back into Binx's room, leaning over to press a delicate kiss to her forehead which makes her stir a little, her eyes fluttering as she lets out a little whine.
"Hey- go back to sleep baby" I whisper to her, gently brushing my hand over her frizzy hair that I had promised to sort out before I left. I had broken my promise just like how life had broken my heart.
"Winnie? Are you leaving?" She asks, still half asleep.
"Yeah- Harry's home, but I'll be back tomorrow maybe, okay?" I whisper into her ear before placing another kiss onto her temple.
"Don't want you to go" she whines whilst her face is smooshed into the pillow and her eyes are barely even open.
"I'll be back- promise" I tell her again, knowing that this was a promise I couldn't break. I would be back, even if Harry tried to shut me out, I wasn't leaving these children to dig themselves their own graves.
"Love you to the stars" she whispers in her dreams, not even opening her eyes to check if I was still in the room.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I whisper that I love her to the stars and more before I'm creeping back out of her room and into Sully's where I kiss his wispy hair and whisper that I love him, silently hoping that there could be a better way.
"Binx wants her hair brushed- so uh, I can come back later? Or maybe tomorrow?" I offer my services and I'm met with nothing but a meek nod from Harry.
"So I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? I'll phone you or text.." my voice trails off as he stays silent, fighting with his every thought in his mind.
He was so far away, barely even touching down on this planet. His mind was in so many places, yet none of them were here.
"Yeah" he nods, not at all paying attention to the conversation, or any words that were coming out of my mouth. I couldn't expect him to focus on me when so much was going on right now.
"Look after yourself, hey?" I remind him with a sad smile, but he was barely even looking my way.
I take myself down the stairs and I feel ridiculous leaving in my pyjamas. It felt like I was doing the walk of shame but in the worst way. I wasn't leaving after a good time, I wasn't leaving after a big night of partying or losing myself in that way. It was like leaving a pit of depression, only to walk back into that pit of depression the minute I walked into my own house.
It was an endless cycle I just couldn't escape.
"Winnie" his strained voice makes its way through the house and I had rarely ever heard him call me by my nickname. Even when things were normal and we weren't covered in grief, Harry rarely called me Winnie. I always always Arwen to him and Winnie to the kids and Jazz.
So to hear him call me Winnie sets of alarm bells in my head.
I spin around on my heel quicker than ever, not wanting to miss a beat and not wanting Harry to change his mind about whatever it might be that he wants to say. Or maybe I was looking into this too much. Maybe he was just saying goodbye.
He looks utterly broken, though that is particularly new, though this time he just looks so drained and washed away. He looks like a little piece of glass that was once shiny and beautiful, only for it to be thrown into the ocean and get battered by the waves a few too many times until it falls dull.
He had been through one too many heartbreaks and I wasn't entirely sure if he would ever completely recover from this. There would always be a ribbon of sadness and grief running through him no matter what he tried to do to get rid of it, it would always linger. His loss would never disappear. He's lost so much yet it stands so tall, towering above him and every minute must be a reminder of all that he's lost.
"Are you okay?" I try to urge him to speak, but there was only so much I could do before he would start to feel uncomfortable. I wasn't going to force him to talk to me.
"I uh-" he stops as if he's rehearsing the words inside of his mind. Running over his lines to make sure they were perfect before he speaks them into existence.
He's often a victim of nervous rambles when he's unsure of himself, and I know he's well aware of it, so he tries to calm himself and make sense of his thoughts before he speaks.
"I went to the bar" he admits to me, still avoiding all eye contact with me, I guess it was just easier to keep his head down, instead of looking into my soul whilst he tells me the not so nice parts of him.
"Yeah?" I nod, though he isn't looking at me. My voice delicate as I'm trying not to scare him off. He's like a timid bird, if I get too close or speak too much, he'll fly away, back into his little nest of safety.
"I uh- I went to the bar" he repeats, his breathing quickening as he comes to the realisation of what he was sharing with me.
He was trying. He was really really hard to be open, but I'm sure his brain was sending him alarm bells and telling him to stop. I wanted him to keep going, I wanted him to speak, because maybe, just maybe, if he shared some of those emotions, then perhaps his shoulders wouldn't sag so much and he wouldn't look as if he was carrying the weight of the world. If he opened up and told me what was going on in this mind of his, then maybe those clouds above him wouldn't be raining so much.
I don't nudge him to press him to continue. I don't walk closer to him or even move. I let him take this one step at a time. That's what grief was all about, that's what healing was all about, taking it slow. One moment at a time. Instead, I stay as still as a statue, barely moving as I wait for him to speak.
"I went to the bar" he repeats for the third time and takes a breath before he continues. "I went to the bar to drink" he's finally able to get his words out a little more, but his sentence isn't finished. He's still going, he just needs the strength to hold on and keep pushing through those dreaded waves.
"Okay- I just- I wish you could've told me before you went, just so I knew you were safe" I huff. At the end of the day I only wanted the best for him and I just wanted him to be safe, if not happy then at least safe. He deserves safety above all else and last night I didn't know where he was. I didn't know if he was safe, I didn't know who he was with.
"I went to the bar to drink- because- because it's easier to swallow whiskey than swallow the fact Jazz isn't coming home and I- I- I just-" he says his piece that he must've been rehearsing in his mind, his words straight from a poets brain.
He spoke such beautiful words, it was often hard to believe the tragedies that were playing out in his mind right now. His words sounded beautiful despite the darkness that lingered alongside them.
It was heartbreaking really.
He took himself to a bar after a particularly hard day, a day where remnants of Jasmine were too much for him to cope with. He took himself to a bar to drown his insides in liquor because that was easier to take. It was easier to drink himself drunk than it was to understand that Jazz wasn't coming back to him.
She was in the stars and that was permanent. She wasn't coming back and that was a hard drink to swallow. Liquor clearly just went down effortlessly.
Acceptance was harder to swallow than a shot.
The amount of torment my poor little heart was going through was woeful. It was beyond heartbreaking and I wasn't even sure the right words existed to fully explain the hurt that I was experiencing.
The fact that Harry tragically took himself away to swallow burning shots rather than being reminded of Jazz and her beautiful ways, has so many tears gathering in my eyes, so many thoughts and so much sadness right at the edge.
He shouldn't be going through this. He shouldn't have to take himself to a bar because intoxicating himself was easier than being reminded of his losses.
I wish there was another way, but when grief touches you so deeply, hard liquor barely even masks the pain.
He's been drinking all night and he still stands in front of me as a mess. I'm sure now, he's probably coming to the realisation that drowning the sorrow actually makes the hurt burn more as you sober up and realise that you still have to live through this. You still have to keep going, put one foot in front of the other and keep breathing.
The world doesn't end as you throw neat tequilas back, though I'm sure for Harry, he often wishes it would. His mind a fatal train wreck.
"You don't need to explain yourself to me" I tell him, not wanting him to open up more than he was comfortable with. This was his life and his story to tell.
"I didn't want you to think that I had just gone to a bar to get drunk- that wasn't my intention. I should've told you but I just- I panicked and I needed to leave before- I guess-" he stops himself and brings his hands up to his lips, nervously chewing on his nails as he recounts what actually happened last night and the emotions he was experiencing, I appreciate his honesty and the fact we can stand here to speak about such things, feels like I've already won.
The silence between us is a lot. It feels heavy yet somehow airy. All that can be heard are our breaths, Harry's a lot quicker and heavier than my own.
His grief seems to be more prominent. Possibly due to the fact that he was grieving for three, though he had lost four.
He was grieving for himself, Binx and Sully, the two of them didn't completely understand it, it was beyond their comprehension. He was grieving for what he had lost, but he was also grieving for what his children has lost.
Not only that, but he was also grieving for the four lives that he had lost. He had metaphorically lost his own life and he was grieving the life he could've lived with his girlfriend. He's grieving for Jazz and he's grieving for the children. All of their lives changing quicker than anyone could imagine. His life and the children's life would never really be the same again.
Yes, they'd still have a future and they can still have a happy childhood, but it won't be what it should've been. They no longer have their mum to share their happy moments with, she physically can't be here with them and that's got to cause a lot of damage to their little minds.
Even though they're young, and Sully hasn't got a clue of what's going on, they'll have have her absence within their lives. They'll always feel that missing part no matter how old they grow and how much time they have to heal. She'll always be absent from their lives.
"It feels like I'm drowning most days." His voice is a meek whisper and if I wasn't already cautious of scaring him off, I'd run straight to him and wrap him up in my arms, holding him tight so nothing ever hurts him again.
If I could, I'd wrap him up in the safety of my arms, her perhaps he'd be more comfortable with bubble wrap surrounding him, just so I had the security of knowing that he was safe and looked after for ever. I just had such an undying need to look after him and keep him safe, something that Jazz wasn't able to do anymore, so maybe I felt as though I had to take over her role.
She wasn't here to care for Harry, she wasn't here to wipe his tears, she wasn't here to hear his thoughts and clear those storm clouds from his mind. But I was.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do- the kids need me but fuck- I just want to curl up in a ball and cry" he shares his honesty with me, opening himself up and showing me the ugly parts, the parts he had claimed he would never share with anyone.
There are tears in his eyes, either that or the light is glistening on his retinas, making his eyes look like they've been preserved with glass.
I would call them beautiful if it wasn't so tragic.
"Everyone says to just let them know if I need help, or just to call them if I need a break from the kids for an hour or so- but I have a duty to look after them. I can't just ship them off to someone just because it gets too much for me- and I appreciate everyone's kindness but they have no idea how I'm feeling right now, they send cards and flowers but that's not what I want. I don't want their words of pity and I don't want their sad faces- I want my Jazz back and she's not here. The kids need their mum, they don't need money sent to them or prayers, they need their mum" he speaks his whole mind with his whole chest, his words growing more and more rushed as he gets to the end of his rambled speech.
The tears even more prominent in his eyes now, they threaten to fall, but don't quite make it. He's gotten good at blinking them away, swallowing them down and shaking it off.
"And everything just feels too much, I feel like I'm drowning every second of the day and Jazz isn't here to pull me up for air and these waves are strong and they hurt- I need to be there for the kids but I feel like I'm a million miles away- and and- I'm planning my girlfriends fucking funeral and I'm supposed to be okay and I'm not" he shakes his head and the courage radiating off of him is unprecedented.
He might not feel very strong or sturdy right now, he might feel like an unstable building with a few bricks and bolts missing, he might feel like he's about to collapse under the weight of the world, but speaking so openly about his emotions is quite possibly the bravest thing he could ever do.
To step out and admit you weaker points is heroic. Some of the toughest men couldn't even do that. For a reason unknown to me, men just seemed to bottle up their emotions a little more, putting on a front and braving it, when inside it was a war zone.
He's going through the toughest time of his life and he admits that he isn't okay. He admits that he's pretending to be fine but he isn't. He admits that he's falling apart. He just won't accept the help. Because none of the help is Jazz, and to him, Jazz is the only thing that could mend his broken heart right now. Jazz is the only cure to his sadness and she isn't here to comfort him or wipe away his tears.
But I am.
"This is easily the worst fucking thing I've ever had to go through and people don't leave me alone, I've constantly got people nagging at me to go in the living room or clean the house- I've got people on my doorstep begging for me to talk to them." I don't take offence from his words, this isn't about me, it's about him getting his words out and getting them off of his chest so hopefully it's a little bit easier for him to breathe again.
"The kids have no idea what's going on- Binx doesn't stop asking questions and Sully cries all the time- I'm missing my best friend and I don't know what to do- I don't know how to plan a funeral for a twenty five year old- I don't know what her favourite song was or what colour flowers she likes- but I remember what her kisses felt like- and- and I remember how soft her hair was but I can't remember what song she liked- that one about the stars? I can't remember it- I don't know what it was-" his words start to become more and more panicked as time ticks by and he's reaching up to his hair, roughly gripping the unkempt strands whilst he begs for a break.
He's got too much on his plate, too much to deal with, too much to organise and cope with. There's too much. His brain is working on overdrive and suddenly I'm now feeling guilty for calling him out over going to the bar. No wonder he needed to forget for just a few hours. He just needed to dip for a few hours. He needed the alcohol in his system for just a few hours whilst he turned the world off.
"Stargirl" I tell him, my own tears growing within my eyes at his misfortune as well as his sadness.
No one should ever have to go through this.
"What?" Harry looks up from the floor, the distance between us doesn't feel as significant now.
"Stargirl- by mcfly" I tell him with a hint of a laugh, as I know how much Jazz would be laughing over this. Not over Harry's emotions, or his stress, but the fact I'm standing here in my pyjamas in his hallway, whilst I pitifully whisper out her favourite song that was beyond inappropriate for a funeral, but it was her favourite.
She had loved it for years, and I distinctively remember it playing as Binx was born. Hence her nickname. Star girl. The two of them went crazy for that song, Jazz would go all out dancing in the kitchen until her heart physically couldn't keep up with her.
She was so full of life. So full of adventure and energy. Her heart was the one who held her back. I cursed it out so often.
"Stargirl" he nods, making a mental note of it. "She loved that one- the one about sex or something- it's so fucking inappropriate" he shakes his head, stifling out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the song at a time like this. It was old but it was her favourite, and such a classic.
The best of the best she would say.
"And her favourite flowers were petunias" I tell him the vital information his brain was missing. "The pink ones" I'm sure to add.
"Petunias- pink petunias and Stargirl" he nods, the list in his head ever-growing of things he needed to remember and do.
"I know it's scary" I acknowledge, though really I have no idea of the weight that must be squashing him into the ground.
I know what's it's like to lose a best friend, I know what it's like to feel like life has no purpose, but I don't have children to look after, I don't have a family to keep running, I don't have a funeral to plan and people who demand me to open up.
Everyone always says to be there for people who are going through grief and I'm sure the majority want people around them to hold them up, but for Harry, he just wants to be left alone. He just wants people to stop bugging him and telling him what he should and shouldn't be doing. He needs space to breathe and no one if giving him that.
I feel guilty for hounding him when that isn't what he needed.
"I know some days you don't even know which way is up- but you will survive this- you'll get through it and you'll make it to the other side" I try to give him my best speech.
"But what if I don't want to survive it? What if that isn't what I want? What if I get to the other side and it's just as fucking depressing?" He asks with a weakness in his voice, though I see it as courage. "I don't want to live without Jazz but I just- I don't know what to do anymore" he breathes, jamming his hands into his pockets and shrugging as he comes to a dead end. Though life was far from over for him.
"One day at a time" I tell him through my own tears that slowly make their way down my cheeks at the tragedy of it all. "One thing at a time."
"Arwen" he speaks as I give him one last sad smile and go to pull the front door open, so he can be left alone, just like he wanted, but he stops me.
"Please stay- I know I said I wanted to be alone- but I need help with the funeral stuff and I'm sure Binx would really appreciate you combing through her hair- if- if you're free that is- if you don't mind?" He asks me this time, rather than just throwing me in head first.
I don't even need a minute to think, in fact, my mouth has decided before I even get to think.
"Yes- yes of course- but can I just go home to change and freshen up? I'll be right back- I promise" worried of leaving him in this state but also knowing the importance of looking after myself too. I can clearly see what it looks like to lose yourself and I refuse to let myself slip too.
Someone has to be the strong one around here. Someone has to be the one who keeps fighting and keeps this whole operation afloat.
"No of course- I just- no, you go and I'll be waiting" he nods, flashing me a little smile through his tears to show me just how grateful he was for this.
Life was tough, but I absolutely believed that Harry was tougher. He just needed the right support and love around him. He needed people cheering him on and he needed a motive. He needed something to look forward to and something to take the edge off of those dark days.
And maybe, with a little effort, maybe I can help pull him out of this whole he's gotten himself stuck in. Or maybe it's a lost cause, maybe I just like to think that I can save everybody.
I hope I can save Harry though. I'd forever live in fear of Jazz haunting me if I can't save him.
If the ocean can calm itself and simmer down on the waves, then I believe Harry can too.
It's all a matter of time. I have faith and I have the stars.
☆ ☆ ☆
I'm SO sorry this has taken forever to get out! As you know, I'm focusing on my second book Regal at the moment as it's nearly done and so I'm trying to write it all so I can get to focusing on telling Arwen and Harry's story.
Give me another two weeks and I promise updates will be more regular!
Love you to the stars <3
Twitter: @hollytpwk