World Tour
Change My Mind
***Louis Tomlinson***
Tuesday, December 27th, 2011, North London
Talking with Harry on Monday night not only seemed to make him feel better, but it also helped me realize where I was at more than my own thoughts did. Something about voicing how I was feeling made it easier to understand. Besides, Harry was always a good listener. It was good to have my friend back, but I knew I couldn’t leave him in limbo with where I was at for too long. All I could think about was how I had been away from him for not even two days, and, aside from being worried sick about the kid, I missed him. I missed him like I was dating him. Maybe that was just because I was so used to seeing him every day? But I certainly didn’t miss the other guys the way I had missed Harry. Sure, I loved them too, but I didn’t long for them. And I sure as hell couldn’t talk to them about this.
We had a radio interview on Tuesday, so a car came and picked us up, the other three guys already in it by the time it got to mine and Harry’s house. I was still getting used to this life – where a car picked me up and I got paid to talk about myself. I loved it.
Harry and I acted fine the whole day, and none of the other guys seemed to notice anything had changed. We went back to our house after lunch, and said goodbye to our band mates before going back in the house. It would be the first time Harry and I were alone together since our conversation the night before, and while that had ended on a good note, I wasn’t sure if he was expecting an answer now. He had to know it was too soon. Hell, I almost cried in front of the guy the night before, there was no way he didn’t know how emotional this all was for me. Harry, beyond sensitive, was intuitive. Plus, he knew me better than I knew myself, and we hadn’t even known each other too terribly long. To my luck, Harry didn’t bring anything up, and neither did I, because I still didn’t know. Part of me didn’t want to think about it. Part of me didn’t want to make a decision. Part of me didn’t want to know where I was at, because if I thought about it, I knew what would happen, and my life would never be the same again if I were honest with myself.
But I owed it to Harry to give him an answer, and a truthful one at that. It would be so easy just to lie to him and go back to the way things were. But I couldn’t do that to him – not only could I not lie to my best friend, I couldn’t hurt him, either. The kid was special, and for some reason he thought I was, as well. So I decided to do what I did best in these kinds of situations – make a joke.
“Harry!” I called down the hall as I went to shower off the smoky smell from the radio station we’d been at earlier.
“Yeah, Mate?” he hollered back from his room, where his door was only open slightly but not enough for me to see in.
“I’m going to take a shower!” I was yelling louder than necessary – he was used to this.
“Okay,” he replied.
“Don’t try and kiss me!” I added, waiting for his response. He chuckled, and I smiled to myself, satisfied that he was cool to joke about it. He didn’t have much of a choice with me, anyway – that was the only way I knew how to handle, well, anything.
I hopped in the shower and thought about how difficult it had been since I walked back in the house last night to not touch Harry. I had had to make a conscious effort not to do it – not to slap him on the back, or squeeze his shoulders, or tousle his hair like I normally did on an hourly basis. I was a touchy feely person, I always had been, and it had never seemed to bother any of my band mates. But I didn’t want them to notice, so I hadn’t touched any of them, not even a hello handshake that day; I didn’t want Harry to feel alienated, although I was sure he noticed. I loved the kid – I loved all my band mates – and I showed that by touching them. They were all used to it, but Harry was a touchy person as well, so he and I usually touched each other more than the rest. Again, this was normal. In fact, me not touching Harry was a cause for concern. But I didn’t want to lead him on if nothing was going to come out of this. However, somewhere deep down, I knew something would, and I didn’t know how much longer I could put it off, how much longer I could resist those big eyes or deny his not so innocent innocent smile.
Tuesday, December 27th, 2011, North London
Talking with Harry on Monday night not only seemed to make him feel better, but it also helped me realize where I was at more than my own thoughts did. Something about voicing how I was feeling made it easier to understand. Besides, Harry was always a good listener. It was good to have my friend back, but I knew I couldn’t leave him in limbo with where I was at for too long. All I could think about was how I had been away from him for not even two days, and, aside from being worried sick about the kid, I missed him. I missed him like I was dating him. Maybe that was just because I was so used to seeing him every day? But I certainly didn’t miss the other guys the way I had missed Harry. Sure, I loved them too, but I didn’t long for them. And I sure as hell couldn’t talk to them about this.
We had a radio interview on Tuesday, so a car came and picked us up, the other three guys already in it by the time it got to mine and Harry’s house. I was still getting used to this life – where a car picked me up and I got paid to talk about myself. I loved it.
Harry and I acted fine the whole day, and none of the other guys seemed to notice anything had changed. We went back to our house after lunch, and said goodbye to our band mates before going back in the house. It would be the first time Harry and I were alone together since our conversation the night before, and while that had ended on a good note, I wasn’t sure if he was expecting an answer now. He had to know it was too soon. Hell, I almost cried in front of the guy the night before, there was no way he didn’t know how emotional this all was for me. Harry, beyond sensitive, was intuitive. Plus, he knew me better than I knew myself, and we hadn’t even known each other too terribly long. To my luck, Harry didn’t bring anything up, and neither did I, because I still didn’t know. Part of me didn’t want to think about it. Part of me didn’t want to make a decision. Part of me didn’t want to know where I was at, because if I thought about it, I knew what would happen, and my life would never be the same again if I were honest with myself.
But I owed it to Harry to give him an answer, and a truthful one at that. It would be so easy just to lie to him and go back to the way things were. But I couldn’t do that to him – not only could I not lie to my best friend, I couldn’t hurt him, either. The kid was special, and for some reason he thought I was, as well. So I decided to do what I did best in these kinds of situations – make a joke.
“Harry!” I called down the hall as I went to shower off the smoky smell from the radio station we’d been at earlier.
“Yeah, Mate?” he hollered back from his room, where his door was only open slightly but not enough for me to see in.
“I’m going to take a shower!” I was yelling louder than necessary – he was used to this.
“Okay,” he replied.
“Don’t try and kiss me!” I added, waiting for his response. He chuckled, and I smiled to myself, satisfied that he was cool to joke about it. He didn’t have much of a choice with me, anyway – that was the only way I knew how to handle, well, anything.
I hopped in the shower and thought about how difficult it had been since I walked back in the house last night to not touch Harry. I had had to make a conscious effort not to do it – not to slap him on the back, or squeeze his shoulders, or tousle his hair like I normally did on an hourly basis. I was a touchy feely person, I always had been, and it had never seemed to bother any of my band mates. But I didn’t want them to notice, so I hadn’t touched any of them, not even a hello handshake that day; I didn’t want Harry to feel alienated, although I was sure he noticed. I loved the kid – I loved all my band mates – and I showed that by touching them. They were all used to it, but Harry was a touchy person as well, so he and I usually touched each other more than the rest. Again, this was normal. In fact, me not touching Harry was a cause for concern. But I didn’t want to lead him on if nothing was going to come out of this. However, somewhere deep down, I knew something would, and I didn’t know how much longer I could put it off, how much longer I could resist those big eyes or deny his not so innocent innocent smile.
Notes
Beware Directioners,About to get a little intense...
@Sinthiaa
No, it's not hers, it's mine, and I can't get in touch with her or the site admins to get it taken down, grrr haha. Thank you for saying something though :-) *MUAH*
5/6/14