Bubble Wrap

Boxes.
Those brown, cardboard moving boxes that would soon be holding every item of mine. They filled the bedroom I had shared with Harry, and I was seated right in the middle of them. I was hugging my legs and resting my head on top of my knees, wanting to do nothing more but sit there and cry for the rest of the night. However, Harry would be home soon, and the less time I had to spend with him, the better.

The memory of the night I'd caught him still stuck out in my mind, no matter what I tried to do to erase it. Each time I closed my eyes, it was like I was living it all over again. I could still smell the pizza that Harry had carelessly forgotten in the oven. I could hear the giggles coming down the hallway. Worst of all, I could still see him tangled up in our bed with that other girl.

The days following this event had been intense, to say the least. The fist day, I couldn't even look at Harry, let alone speak to him. The next, he tried to apologize while I cried the whole time. Finally, yesterday, I spoke my mind. I screamed at him, wanting to know what I had done to deserve this. His response was that he was confused, and wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. That's when I learned that this girl wasn't just a one night fling, but a relationship he'd been hiding for the past two months.

Now here I was, sitting on the floor of our bedroom with all of the boxes. Finally, I forced myself to stand up and begin packing, starting with all of the clothes in the closet. I folded each garment carefully, taking extra time to make sure each was neat and free of wrinkles.

After this, I moved on to the more breakable items. My eyes scanned the room until they landed on the one thing I would need for this portion.
Bubble wrap.

I picked it up and, while having to resist popping any of it, began to wrap it around several things that I didn't want destroyed in the moving process. I chuckled softly as my mind began to think of what a simple thing bubble wrap really was. Sure, people used it for many different things, but it really only had one job:
to keep things from breaking.

I sighed loudly, wishing I had something like bubble wrap to protect my stupid heart. If I'd had that when I met Harry, I wouldn't be in the position that I was in now. One thing was for sure, I was never, ever going to give up my heart again.

"Abby, what in God's name are you doing?" I heard from behind me. I whirled around, and my eyes immediately locked with those of the boy I'd called mine for the last eight months.

I ripped my gaze from his and turned back to the box I'd been working on. "What does it look like I'm doing, Harry? I'm moving out."

His hand circled around my wrist. "Don't do this, please. I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, but I promise I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you. Just...just stop packing, okay?"

"Stop it," I said, jerking my arm away from him. "It's over, Harry, and we both know it. Everything's broken and there's no way to fix it." I could feel hot tears already burning in my eyes and threatening to spill down my cheeks. I let them fall, knowing there was no way to stop them.

Before I could protest, Harry was wrapping me up in his arms, and his lips were softly pressing against my own. It was hard to push him away, because this action was so familiar to me. It was comfortable, and natural, but at the same time it made me ache now. I placed my hands on his shoulders and forced him away from me. "No," I said quietly as my eyes turned toward the floor. ''I'm not going to let you come in here and kiss me and make me fall for you all over again. You broke me, Harry, and that's that."

I returned to my packing and felt Harry's warm breath on the back of my neck as he came and stood behind me. "Abby, I'm not gonna give up and let you walk out. I know what I did was fucking wrong, and I hate myself for it. But sometimes, life's a bitch. It's one big, fat bitch, but we can get through this together."

I tossed my head back and laughed sarcastically. "Life's a bitch? That's the best you've got? Well, you're absolutey right I guess. Life's a bitch, Harry, and so are you."

His green eyes widened at my statement and his mouth hung open slightly. "Yeah, that's right," I said, not waiting for him to respond. "Don't give me this bullshit about 'getting through it together,' because those days are long gone. You say you're all dazed and confused about this other girl? Well, I'm gonna make your decision really easy, because I want nothing to do with this thing you're going through."

"Abby," he whispered, clearing his throat. "I love you. I don't want to lose you."

"Oh, don't get all emotional, baby," I chuckled. "I'm sure you'll be just fine."

I taped up my last box and placed it on the top of the others. I turned around and finally let my eyes land on Harry, who was looking down at the floor with his hands shoved down into his pockets. He sniffed quietly, and I saw that he was crying. Harry Styles, the world's favorite whore, the boy who wrote the fucking book on how to be a liar, was crying because I was leaving.

It would've been very easy for me to fall for this, to let it make me feel bad and take him back, but I couldn't do it. I had to be strong enough to walk out. "The moving van should be here tomorrow to pick up all of my stuff," I finally spoke.

I pushed past him and kept walking until I reached the door, and then I turned to face him one last time. "I guess this is goodbye, Harry."