Dear Haz,

How was your day, my love? I feel like I don't ask this much. Plus, it's a good conversation starter, even if the conversation is only one way. I'm getting help for my drinking. Zayn's signed me up for alcoholics anonymous, whatever the fuck that is. He says it might help me recover. I don't think it's that big of a problem, but if the boys do, then I guess I don't have much choice in the matter.

The ink in my pen has started to fade from all this writing, and there's this strange callus on my finger from where the pen's rubbed against it. It hurts a bit, but not as much as my heart does whenever I think of you. I don't care if that sounded cheesy, I miss you.

I envision you sitting at your small desk in your brilliant New York City apartment, reading these very letters. I imagine you frowning, your eyebrows drawn inward slightly. Have you read the letters, Harry? Normally I'd get a notification to show that they've gotten to you, but so far, nothing.

Liam's just sent me a link. I'm worried it's what I think it is. It can't be. It just can't.

I'll update you in a bit, darling.

Until then, love from Loubear.

...

Dear Darling,
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I read the link. 'Ex-Band Member Harry Styles found dead in his NY apartment after taking his own life' it read. Is this true? Are you really gone? You promised, Harry. You promised.

I should have reached out more. When you stopped communicating, I thought it was just because you needed space to figure things out. God only knows how much you were hurting. I did jack-shit to stop it. I should have tried.

I can sense you glaring at me from wherever you may be right now. If you were here, you'd tell me "It's not your fault, Lou. It could never be your fault." Sometimes, though, we have to admit defeat.

You disappeared off the face of the Earth for god knows how many months, and suddenly you're gone completely? It just feels so surreal. I should have known.

People usually have this instinct when something's wrong, but where was mine? I'd just assumed you'd moved on and forgotten about me. That's what you told me to do, right? You told me to "move on" and that "it's not the end of the world", but without you here, it pretty much is.

I'm never gonna hear your voice again. I'll never see your face, or hold you, or sing softly into your ears after one of your nightmares. I loved doing that, by the way. It just made me feel so close to you, and now it's all been ripped away from me, taking you with it.

I'm sorry, Hazza. I really am. You didn't deserve the hurt you had building up inside.

I remember this one night like it was just yesterday. We were just teens at the time. We'd been running around on the grass, and you'd tripped so I'd reached out to catch you and we both ended up in a giggling heap on the mud. You'd buried you face in my chest and it felt as though all the puzzles pieces were finally fitting together. We'd only been dating 3 months. You looked at me with so much love, and there was a glimmer in your eyes that I just could not describe, but now I think I can.

Our breaths steadied themselves as we gazed at each other. I remember your next words clearer than the rain. "Do you ever think one day we'll leave this world unprepared? Like, some day, all of this could be gone?" I'll admit, it startled me. "I'm never saying goodbye to you" I'd replied. I still stand by those words.

I don't have it in me say goodbye, let alone face the fact that you're gone so soon.

It's my fault for not reaching out, and I could not be more sorry. Please forgive me, my love.

Please?

I miss you, from Louis.