four boys, all with different problems, but brought to the same place. over the course of a few days, this young therapist hears their life changing emotional stories about situations that are relatable for her and probably you as well.

november 30th | 2015

Therapy is shit. Let's start with that.

Anyone that tells you therapists are equivalent to saviors are either being held against their will, or were raised by idiots. Or maybe it's just me and my shit opinion, who knows? All I can say is that talking about the things that go wrong in my life will not help fix them, in any way.

I sit in the leather couch as the young woman across from me gives me a wide smile.

"Hello Mr. Styles."

"It's just Harry."

She makes a note on her notepad and I slide further down into the seat.

"Is this your first time here?"

"Obviously."

"Harry. You're here. You might as well cooperate."

She starts to write again and I snort, rolling my eyes. Everything I've heard about these people is true; they make you sit and ask you repetitive questions until it's time for you to leave with nothing accomplished.

"Harry, I'm going to ask you a couple questions and I need you to answer as honestly as you can."

"Fine fine."

She bites her lip before scanning down the list.

"Have you ever been depressed?"

"No."

Yes.

"Are you on medication?"

"No."

Too many to count.

"Any mental disorders?"

"Nope."

Social autism. Anxiety. OCD. Depression? Hello?

"Have you ever wanted to kill yourself, Harry?"

"Never."

If I had a nickel for every time.

She nods, writing down everything I had told her. With this information (list of lies) out in the open, I stand up, stretching my back out and preparing to leave. I open my mouth, ready to bid her goodbye, but she stops me.

"Mr. Styles--"

"Harry."

"--where are you going?"

"Uh, leaving?"

She chuckles, pointing to the dreaded couch again,

"You lied about every single one of those questions."

I grunt, folding my arms as she continues to talk to me.

"Harry, your mother made you come here for a reason. If you're not going to tell her, tell someone."

I sit on the couch, but refuse to answer. So what if something's bothering me? I've been doing just fine with the situation on my own and the last person I need to help me is a stranger.

"Harry, do you have friends?"

"Of course I do," I reprimand her, "who do you think I am?"

"A liar, and not a very good one, as I can tell from your demonstration."

I roll my eyes as she continues to talk,

"How about girlfriends? Dating?"

I chuckle and shake my head in amusement. The day girls are into me is the day I become the hottest man alive. And I mean hotter than the sun.

"Boyfriends?"

My heart skids to a stop, but it's too late; I've already crashed. How she managed to hit the target so fast, god I don't know.

"Got you," she smirks, writing her latest discovery down, "there's a boy involved?"

"Yes," I sigh, giving up, "but I'm not... telling my mum or anything. If she knew..."

"I don't expect you to." She reassures me, "but at least talk to me. What can you tell me about this boy?"

I sniff, running a hand through my unruly hair before taking a deep breath,

"He isn't a boy. He's a hurricane."

"How so?"

"We don't expect hurricanes to be hurricanes at first. All they are in the beginning are peaceful breezes mixed with light currents. I let myself move with him, and then the storm formed. He struck me with everything and I'm still trying to recollect myself and find whatever is salvaged from the damage."

"This is good Harry, this is good. Keep talking."

"Levi Cameron Jones is my fucking category five hurricane."

january 2nd | 2015

My return to school had been pretty uneventful. Every teacher wished us a happy new year and we resumed our work from where we had left off before break. Boring, just awfully boring. The day was coming to a slow close as I stepped into my seventh period video editing class. This class was a lot like a study hall to me, being that I got the work done before it was due, and everyone else was too lazy to get it done on time.

I sat where I sat every day; first desk, window seat. The room was fairly open, and the desks could fit two people, making them more like lab tables with computers atop their surfaces. So the classroom setting was aesthetically pleasing, for school at least.

With my homework out on my desk, and others talking instead of working around me, I begin work that I probably should have done last night. It's peaceful for a while, until I hear a voice outside of my earbuds, people. The last thing I fucking need.

I take out one of my buds and look up to a pair of shining green eyes. I know them from anywhere; Levi.

Levi Jones is quite a character. Though, he isn't exactly someone I've gotten to know on a personal level. He was always just, there. I met him freshman year, his hair long and his eyes not as green as they were back then. He had a bright happy smile all the time and every time you were around him, your mood took a few steps up. It was just something Levi could do effortlessly.

"Hi Harry," he says to me with a prize-winning smile.

"Levi," I give him one of my awkward 'close to smiling but not smiling' grins and he laughs softly.

"Come to the back of the room with me. I want to talk to you."

"Wha--" I huff, "I have to do homework!"

"No come on please! What homework could you possibly have to do?"

"I'm a procrastinator." I tell him, "I always have homework due."

"Well come on, it'll take two seconds. I want to tell you something."

I groan, dropping my pencil as he grins successfully, taking me all the way to the last table in the back of the room, right next to the teacher's desk.

"What do you want?" I ask him, a weird smile poking at my cheeks.

"I just wanted to tell you that we should turn over a new leaf."

I look at him peculiarly,

"New leaf? We barely even had a leaf to begin with."

"You didn't know?"

"Know...what?"

"Well, it's awkward now that I want to try and be friends but, I've kind of hated you since freshman year."

My jaw almost falls, but I stop myself just in time, pulling at my flannel sleeves instead of being dramatic.

"What? I mean, seriously? You hated me? Why?"

"Well," Levi taps his chin, "you almost killed me because I didn't like that one band and instead I liked another."

"Oh hush," I mutter, "that was ages ago. You're really holding that against me?"

"It hurt Harry."

"Whatever, I'm sorry though."

"Too late for sorry."

"Of course it is..." I mumble. Though his statement comes as an alarming wake up call, it brings sense to how things were since September. The weird looks, the awkward conversations, it was all because he wasn't fond of me in the first place.

"But anyway, the past is the past." He convinces me, "We start a new today."

"No protests," I say with a shrug, "how was your day."

"It was okay." Levi responds with a shrug, "Tiring, but okay."

I nod, about to put my headphones in again, but he speaks again,

"Do you like John Green?"

"I love his writing," my answer comes out quicker than expected, "why?"

"Have you read Paper Towns?"

I've only heard about the book and what it's about, but I nod my head in response.

"It's a metaphor of all the societies we exist in, don't you think?"

The minimal knowledge I currently had stored in my brain about the infamous Paper Towns could successfully lead me to agree with him, so I nod my head and he suddenly reaches over my hands, logging into the computer in front of me,

"They're making a movie based on it."

"Really? That's sick." I answer, watching as he searches the movie,

"They have Cara Delevingne playing Margo, and I swear she's perfect for the role," he gushes, "She's so perfect."

I shrug,

"She's alright."

He looks at me in disbelief, but shrugs it off before looking back at the screen.

"We should see it together." he says suddenly,

"Really?" I say in shock, "But it comes out in like--June."

"Then we wait." he says, clicking out of the web browser, "practice patience Harry."

"Alright," I smirk, "patience it is then."

november 30th | 2015

"We didn't even see the movie together," I chuckle sadly, "He went to see it with his mum. It ended up coming out in July rather than June, and I was on vacation."

"Things happen," the therapist shrugs and I look at her with a side smile,

"Yeah, I just thought he'd wait for me."

She pats my knee before urging me to go on,

"So it had been a couple months, and Levi and I were really getting along well. It was almost as if he never hated me and we had just met that year."

february 16th | 2015

"It's kind of sad that you didn't have a Valentine H," My friend Natalie gives me a pitiful look as I rummage through my locker, looking for my Spanish notebook.

"Whatever," I shrug, looking to my left, "It's no big deal."

I see Levi at his locker, his head basically inside it as he looks for his stuff. I smirk, turning to my own books and Natalie gives me look,

"What was that?"

"What?" I ask, shutting my locker and leading her away, "What was what?"

"That look..." she mumbles and I look back at Levi, who's now looking at me and giving me that same smirk. I smile towards the floor, biting my lip.

He's so quirky... it's appealing.

"It was nothing Natalie..."

"Your protests say otherwise."

"Just leave it." I tell her strictly. She giggles before walking in front of me and leaving me with my petty thoughts. Levi... Levi Levi Levi. It's a cute name too... I wonder who gave it to him. Blushing at my own wandering predictions and crazy ideas, I take a deep breath and try to wipe the stupid grin that had appeared on my face off.

It's then when it hits me; when Levi and I started really talking, I told him I read something that I had never even thought of twice until he mentioned it. And not only that, I made it a goal to actually read the book and be informed of it before we got too deep into conversation. (I mean it paid off. We ended up in an hour conversation about it just as I finished the last words the same morning.)

Since when do I try that hard to make other people's acquaintance?

•

I decide to text the only person I know that would know Levi like the back of their hand; Mann. Mann is Levi's best friend, and they're tight. Tight to the point where I was literally walking into a friendship bonded like peanut butter and jelly. (I'm still allergic but it's whatever.) But as tight as they were, I knew that Mann would be extremely accepting of what I thought I was feeling and maybe could help me along the way.

What were these feelings I was feeling?

A crush. On Levi. Something I had never even thought would happen, because one; Levi is a boy. Two; I'm straight. Three? Why would I crush on someone that told me they used to hate me not even two months ago?

Regardless, I text Mann.

H: mann

M: hey harry, what's up?

H: i have a concern, regarding levi.

M: what about him?

H: i think, well uh...

M: h, is everything okay with him?

H: you see, we've been talking for awhile and (please don't reprimand me for this, because idek how to feel about it) but i think i have a crush on levi. yes i'm being serious, no i'm not on drugs, and yes i'm asking you for some advice.

I set my phone down on my desk, nervous of what reaction is to follow. This is definitely unmarked territory for me, being that I've never had a crush on a guy. I've also never had crush this overpowering on a girl.

My phone buzzes and I almost break it as I leap for it, retrieving it in my grasp.

M: that is so great har, levi is great for you, and you're great for him. i think you'll be the one that opens him up and shows him that not everyone in the world is out to get him. x

I smile at this single thought alone, laying down in my bed happily as I think of him freely.

•

Later, I sit in my bed at two in the morning, my mind whirring with thoughts and feelings I never thought I would have to acknowledge during my high school years. Sure, two hours ago I may have been fine, but I always am until the entirety of what a situation really is sinks in. It happens every time, without avail.

I have a crush on a boy. What does this say about my once solid conformation in my sexuality? Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Am I pansexual? There's too many questions arising all because of one boy that decided to drag me into his life after a holiday break.

What pure evil Levi Jones is. But no one has ever made me cave into it more than he managed to do every day.

november 30th | 2015

"So after you figured yourself out..." the therapist asks cautiously, "did your feelings for Levi increase or stay at a neutral level?"

"It's quite funny," I smile nostalgically, "As I noticed how smart and funny and cute Levi could be on a daily basis, things got worse. In video editing class I would drape my legs over his and just stare at him, admire the little things that made him who he was. He never took it seriously, being that he thought it was just innocent play, but I couldn't resist him."

"To what extent?"

"All I can say is that it was getting to a point where my own affection was killing me."

"Did you ever tell him?"

"Yeah eventually," I continue, "I had this crazy panic attack, and everything came out. I remember because it was right after his birthday."

april 20th | 2015

The phone sits across from me and I know I have two options at this point; call him and confess, or sit here wrapped around my stupid thoughts and anxiety. Both of these options sound pretty unfortunate, so I do the stupid thing and pick up my phone, scrolling down his name with my hand hovering above the tiny little phone icon. To call or not to call...

My fingers work before my brain does and in seconds I'm holding the phone up to my ear, those same fingers shaking nervously. The dial tone seems to ring for ages, but to my surprise he picks up. Levi's voice rings in my ear, a soft hello sending my heart through the roof.

Why am I shaking so much?

"Levi," I stammer, "hey..."

"You know I hate phone calls. What's up?"

"I..."

It's now when I realize that I have so much shit to say, but no way to say it. How did I even get myself into this predicament? Right, I'm a basket case and I had a panic attack over a person with pretty hair and a sparkly personality.

"Levi I...well um..."

"You've always been good with words Harry--"

"You're so fucking gorgeous," I let out, cringing as the line goes silent.

"...What?"

"You...I..." I groan loudly, "Levi what do you think of love?"

"Love? Dude we're in high school--"

"But like I have a crush on you. A huge one. And I don't know about it because I know you're all confused and stuff and me crushing on you isn't helping and stuff and wow I'm rambling. I'm gonna stop."

"Harry..."

"I'm sorry Levi. I'm so sorry but at this point it can't be helped."

"No no it's okay, I just can't believe...thank you for telling me."

"Hm?" I say, concerned.

"For being straightforward. I admire your intrepidness."

"Thank you..." My voice is wavered as I speak, "but Levi, please, how do you feel?"

"About you?"

"I mean...yeah."

"Oh..."

This is it. This is where it ends. All the weirdly addicting happiness I had become accustomed to is about disappear before my very eyes, leaving me in solitude.

"Harry, do you remember the Paper Towns plot?"

I nod slowly, realizing he can't hear me so I quickly answer him,

"Yes, yes I do."

"Well think about it this way, because well, it's true in a sense. In this situation, you're Q, and I'm Margo."

It's obvious; he seems to have more of a Margo-esque persona than me.

"Yeah, but."

"Harry you can't fall in love with me. You're only going to hurt yourself more than I could ever hurt you."

"You have no say in that," I come back, "you can never determine how much you hurt someone; it depends on that person."

"Look the point is, live up to your role." He says through the phone, "Quentin let Margo go. Let me go before it's too late."

november 30th | 2015

"Did you let him go?"

"Of course not," I confess, "Mann's words were still engraved in my brain. I believed that I could make him better, open him up; make him feel alive."

She nods, writing down what I said.

"You should have let him go."

I feel tears surface at my mistake,

"I know."

"Do you want to go on?"

"Yeah, yeah I will."

"How was it after you told him?"

I sigh, rubbing the stray tears from my eyes,

"He convinced me that everything would be okay, that it would eventually become something he would adjust to. He even told me that he thought it was cute, but I forgot one thing that Levi told me when we first started talking."

"What?"

"He lives on top of lies."

may 13th | 2015

Levi had been acting weird for the past two weeks. We've barely talked, and whenever I try to approach him, he acts as if he shouldn't have been around me in the first place. I tried to ask around, but it seemed as if everyone was avoiding me, taking steps farther and farther from me as I was soon left to be alone, just as I predicted I would be.

I tried to text him, call him, anything to hear something other than "I have homework" or "I'm too busy to talk now." Feelings had never fucked me over so terribly, and I felt myself falling back into the dark place I thought I had escaped.

The night I finally get a reply from Levi, I wish I hadn't.

L: what do you want?

H: we haven't talked in ages, i just wanted to talk to you.

L: why are you so annoying at times?

H: excuse me? where is all this coming from? i thought you didn't hate me, i thought we were moving on levi?

L: wanna know the truth?

H: why would i want lies?

L: i still hate you, sadly. it was stupid of me to think that we could have been okay.

My heart falls to the bottom of my stomach, and I hold my chest tightly. His words hurt more than I thought a combination of letters could ever affect me. He still hates me?

H: i don't understand...

L: of course you don't...

H: no, why would i? you tell me one thing and i get another. it happens every time.

L: i'm sorry... it's complicated.

H: uncomplicate it.

L: i can't do that.

I had moved to the bathroom, tears streaking down my burning cheeks. Nothing about this was fair. He lied. Levi had been lying for months on top of months, to my face. All our late night conversations and laughs and everything I took for veracity, was all built on a lie.

My hands hover over the keyboard, knowing that I want to leave him. This is when it ends; this is the last time he'll get away with this.

I type out the words, staring at them as they appear on the screen.

i don't think we should talk anymore.

The send button is right there. All I have to do is press it, and I'm free.

"Just press it," I whisper to myself, "just press the stupid fucking button, and you're free. Just do it Harry, do it."

But then all the memories come flooding in; every time he made me feel like I was on top of the world, or the times when we would both be down and just talk through and suddenly I would be feeling better within seconds. It wasn't a lie that when Levi and I were okay, life was good. But then again, what if everything that was good is bad? What if the good was always bad? What the hell is actually going on?

"Fuck you Levi," I mutter, throwing my phone against the wall harshly and reaching into my bathroom cabinet, pulling out the blades I thought I'd have the incentive to use again.

"Fuck you and your alluring horror story."

•

"You look exhausted as hell."

"That's what happens when you don't sleep," I say with a weak smile as the girl with a locker next to me takes off her fleece,

"Take a nap in your study hall, if you have one."

"I don't," I frown, "but maybe math class will suffice."

"Good," she says with a smile before shutting her locker and walking away. I bite my lip and sluggishly pick up my books for my morning classes, my mind still in a haze. The awareness of the ugly slashes circling my thighs doesn't make me feel well along with my fatigue. All I want to do is fast forward to the last day of school and forget I ever met Levi. Hopefully we won't have any classes together next year.

"Harry?"

I hear his voice and cringe, wishing I had moved faster.

"Harry..."

I don't face him as I keep my eyes trained on my locker.

"I'm not sorry you know."

"Not surprised." I mumble, slamming the top compartment of my locker, refusing to give him eye contact.

"Just accept it Harry."

"No!" I almost shout, but I catch myself, gulping and closing my eyes before I make a scene. The last thing I need is a panic attack in school, "You won't even tell me why! Every time I ask you're cryptic, telling me that you'll tell me one day and that I'm not deserving to find out why. Why am I still here if you're just giving me shit?!"

"That's a good question; why are you still here?"

I'm silent until I realize the answer myself,

"Because I have hope. I have dwindling hope that you're not going to hurt me anymore, and that you're not like everyone says you are."

With that, I walk away and leave him to digest my fury. The sad part is that I know I still feel strongly for him, even though it's the beginning of a poisonous infatuation.

november 30th | 2015

"You don't do it anymore, do you?" She asks, concerned.

"Only twice this year," I tell her with surprising honesty.

"Once Levi, and the other...?"

"Levi again."

"Twice over one person?"

"I've been known to make waste of undeserving things."

"He wasn't a waste to you in the moment, don't blame yourself."

"But you don't understand; this is my fault."

june 12th | 2015

Six times. I tried to leave him six times. Every time, I wimped out and cried, leaving the message unsent and stuck in my drafts of departure trials. It's so hard to leave something bad, and I realize now that it's because I think it's good.

We're in seventh period now, and we only have to sit in  here for ten minutes. The last day is a rush, going to classes from this past year and classes for next year, all in the time period of four hours. Insanity, but they make it work.

Everyone is going over which classes they have with who, and when Levi acknowledges me, I oblige and give him attention, just because I need to make sure I'll be free next year.

"Can I see your schedule?" he asks with an uneasy smile. I nod and hand it to him, and he reads through.

"One class together, second semester though."

"Which one?"

"Another technology class; it's in this same room."

I hold in my tears, knowing that my time with Levi won't just come to a null. He'll always be there, someway or somehow. But a part of me is excited, because I know I'll talk to him during the summer and well, I'm an idiot. I'll stay even though he's killing me.

The bell rings and my breath gets caught in my throat. This is the last time I'm seeing Levi this school year.

"Well," he smiles, pushing his chair in, "have a good summer H."

He walks away and for some reason, my heart holds on to those simple words that leave his lips. I watch him walk away, my pain falling from me like rose petals.

Have a good summer.

Such little significance, but it meant so much to me.

november 30th | 2015

"How did the summer go?"

I chuckle, giving her a look that gave her a direct hint; it was great and terrible at the same time.

"He stole my fucking heart," I mumble, "I didn't see his face for three months and the way he talked to me took me over. I fell in fucking love with him. I fell in love with an asshole and the first day back, I realized what I had done to myself."

"What happened?"

"When we got back it was almost as if nothing he said that summer mattered. It was a fucking cold shoulder. I went up to him to say hi, so excited to see his beautiful smile and everything that made me forget what he did but..."

"But? Harry what did he do?"

"He fucking ran from me," I choke out, "One look and he was sprinting away. It was humiliating, considering that everyone in the fucking hallway watching him run away like a child."

"Did you confront him?"

"Of course I did," I whimper, "and he literally tried to bypass it as if what he did had no significance! When you have a summer like we did...with so much bonding and just everything flowing between us being peaceful, I...why would he run away? We had such a good summer, he even told me he felt like we were in a better position! What am I to think when he bolts the second he sees me?!"

"Harry, at this point one would leave. He's obviously not deserving of you and can't comprehend your feelings."

"I thought I could change him," The inability to talk comes as I feel a large lump in my throat, "I thought that maybe with a little work, he could understand what he was putting me through and we could work towards a better future and..."

'Harry..."

"I trusted him with everything...told him all my ins and outs, up and downs, my screw ups and my talents, and he took it all for granted and..."

"Harry, you're crying..." the therapist tells me with sadness in her voice. I cover my face with my large hands, sobbing into them loudly,

"I told him I loved him!" I cried, "I thought telling him would help him understand!"

"Did he?"

"I don't know," I hiccup, wiping my moist face, "I don't know and I'll never know. I go to sit down at lunch with our group of friends and every time he sees me, or my eyes graze over a scene, he backs away as if I'm trying to find an excuse to look at him. Or he's whispering to our friends, looking at me as he does so. It's so petty but it infuriates me! It makes me depressed that there's no lucid way for me to figure out what the fuck Levi Jones' deal is!"

"And you still love him?"

"I'm stuck on him. I'm fucking attached to nothing, and I can't hop off of him."

"Maybe...maybe he's attached to you too."

"Wha?" I sniff, dragging my hand under my nose, "What do you mean by that?"

"You obviously don't hold back with your affection. Maybe he feeds off that, everyone needs a little love and sadly, your filter is broken; you can't stop handing him the love he craves."

"But I only express it because I do," I feel the tears resurfacing, "and I don't know why I feel so strongly anymore. He's a fucking monster, ruining me with every day I spend alive in his presence."

"Have you two tried talking?" she asks and I nod, rubbing my forehead slowly,

"There was one time. Actually, a bunch of times. After school I would pull him aside and try to get some answers out of him before we both had to run to the bus."

"Have you guys ever physically interacted before?"

"He hates physical contact but..." I sigh.

"But?"

"There was this one time...I dunno, things were good between us on this specific day. I don't think I mentioned this but...we went through this cycle. A demonic cycle. We would love each other and be silly, as if any of the bad blood we had didn't even exist. And then we'd fight until we made the overall decision to take space. After a few days, one of us would crawl back, missing the other. And then the cycle would restart, as if nothing before had changed us."

"That's terrible Harry, I'm so sorry," she sighs, "but...in a way, that's toxic. Such a wishy washy relationship can screw with your mind."

"I know," I nod, "I figured it out. Wrote about it too."

"You did?" She asks me, "do you have anything on you?"

"Yeah, on my phone. I wrote a few poems but, I think I can only get one."

"I would like to see it, if you don't mind."

"Sure," I respond, suddenly comfortable with sharing, "I named it 'Demonic', and it's basically a summary of everything I've been feeling, all these afflictions and just my emotions towards Levi in general."

"It sounds enticing," she says as I hand her my phone.

he's an angel in disguise,

unable to control the rate of change

in his feelings for me.

day one

his smile is coated with innocence,

the sincere earnest of the way he looks

directly into my eyes as he speaks to me

washing over the doubt i had early that morning.

day two

the words he inscribes to me descend

from his lips like rose petals as i try not to

fall prey to the trap he's luring me

towards.

day three

i want him, desperately need his touch.

something to keep my frail heart

beating while being so desperately

attacked by a love i never predicted would come.

day four

the breakdown; he's cold,

as numb as his soul in the winter.

i try to scream for him, send my heartbeat

out to him but he can't hear me over

the noises flooding his mind,

the demons clouding his vision.

day five

he's lost, doesn't know who to turn to

or where to run. my eyes are bloodshot, it's

as if we've both been to war. there's nothing

left on the battlefield other than pieces of our broken

hearts that we always strain to put together.

day six

we tell ourselves that we'll be okay,

that the war is over and that we'll come back

stronger than the past, turning the future into

our true fate.

but the resent, the memories, the arguing,

the tears, the excruciating pain,

it still remains, buried deep within us,

just waiting to come out.

day seven

the demonic cycle relapses and begins again.

"Harry," she whispers, "this is beautiful, you're so talented for a young man like yourself."

"Thank you," I take the compliment, "but I'm only good at writing when I feel pain."

"You were telling me about physical contact?"

"Right," I say, "There was an instance when he suddenly turned to me as we were walking to the bus, and he asked me if I wanted a hug. I was so surprised because I know he hates touching and such and I just ran to him. I let go of everything and let myself be engulfed in his embrace."

"I suppose that hug made everything feel okay?"

"Temporarily at least. He told me I was too content in his arms and that it concerned him."

"Were there any other moments?"

I smile at the thought of the next thing that comes to mind, a blush clouding around my cheeks,

"Yeah, one day we were talking into late hours, and we were talking about kissing. It was weird, but for some reason, he told me I could try and kiss him. Catch him off guard or something. I thought it was great, the perfect opportunity. But I screwed it up."

"Really? What happened?"

"So," I chuckle lightly, "we were walking to the bus, and I was going to do it on the stairwell by the freshman hallway, and when I tried to get him to stop walking and lean in, my ankle twisted on the step."

"Oh god," she covers her face and I laugh softly,

"I felt down the stairs and landed right on my ass."

"Holy crap, did he help you up?"

My face falls as I look back on it,

"No, no he just laughed as I scrambled up."

The therapist's face falls as well and I bite my lip,

"How could I have missed that?"

"You're blinded by love Harry."

I gulp, nodding as she explains it to me. Maybe that's what's been happening all along. Levi's beauty had been blinding the more obvious corrupt personality that hid beneath the shining armor.

"How could I have let this happen?"

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

I look up at her in astoundment,

"Perks?"

She gives me a side smile before touching my knee delicately,

"I think it's time to let go of Margo, Harry."

"I've tried," My voice strains helplessly, "At least twenty times; I physically cannot survive without Levi in my life, whether he's done good or bad."

"You're addicted to him," the therapist concludes, and I nod my head vigorously.

"That's exactly what it is. I'm addicted to him. He's a drug and...and I can't let him go."

"Then treat him like every drug addict treats a substance. Accept that you're addicted to him, and then take steps to move forward."

I nod, looking up at the time. I came here at around six, and it's almost eleven o'clock.

"I figure you'll have to be getting home now," the therapist says with an uneasy, yet reassuring smile. I nod, getting up from the couch and taking another tissue to wipe my eyes.

"How do you get over an addiction?" I ask quietly. She looks at me and rests her hand on my shoulder,

"Come back on December 12th, I'm sure I'll have a solution to help you here when you arrive."

"Thank you," I say, reaching out to hug her instead of shaking her hand, "thank you for listening."

"I'll always listen to you," she says, rubbing my back before letting me walk out the door that I almost deliberately stormed out of five hours ago. I bid her goodbye and exit the room, leaving the building right after. I stand outside, sending a quick text to my mom that I'm finally ready. As that message sends, one from Levi pops up and my heart hammers in my chest.

L: hey, how are you?

It's been weeks since I've heard from him. (And obviously I'm not good; I was just in a fucking five hour therapy session.) As I look at his contact name and the first message I've received from him in months, I lock my phone, ignoring him  altogether.

You will not win Levi Cameron Jones. I won't let you ruin me any longer.

next in the series: albert einstein
harry styles will return.