Disclaimer: I do not own WOWP.
I was walking down her street alone about midnight. Not that this was any trouble, because I was now an adult, and I could do whatever I wanted. Still, I felt unprotected and vulnerable, and with a quick change in direction I started back towards her house. Once I was there, I went to knock on the door, but remembered how late it was, so I just took out my key and came inside. God, that lady is so good to me! I thought. I was one of the only people who had a key to her house, yet I had made a point to never use it. Until recently, being with her annoyed the crap out of me.
I didn't really know why I was visiting in the middle of the night, but of one thing I was sure- I had to find her. Thankfully I didn't have to search long, for I found her huddled in a small fleece blanket on the couch, the TV on but muted. Just the very sight of her there brought tears to my eyes. Not tears of annoyance, but tears of guilt. Pure, fresh guilt for ignoring her when she needed me most.
Of course, I always came to her when I had a problem, and no matter what it was, anything at all, she would give all she had to make it right. But I, being ignorant and shallow as a child, never once tried to help her. This thought tore me apart inside, because she didn't ask great things of me, or many things at all. Just one thing. That I love her. That I pay just the littlest bit of attention to her when she talked to me. That I always be there for her when she needed my comforting arms, because she was always there for me. I didn't give her that one small thing she asked, though. No matter what she did for me, I always turned her away. Eventually it came to be too much for her fragile heart to bear, and she broke down. Completely lost all emotion except for sadness. She masked it well for her family and friends, but everyone could see that her eyes had lost that sparkling ray of hope they always had. I once again ignored her, in her desperate time of need. I didn't give her the small comfort that she asked for, the reassurance that I would always love her. I left her to cry herself to sleep at night, wondering what she had done wrong with me, and praying that she could take it back. I was a coward that couldn't face the fact that I loved her, the embarrassing weirdo that wouldn't stop reaching out to me. I eventually lost her.
She still talked to me, but as we grew older, she became more distant and guarded, as if she was afraid that I would break her heart again. She wouldn't reach out to anyone else either, always fearing more disappointment. That's why she was laying on this ratty couch, alone, with no one to comfort her and say that they love her. All because I couldn't give her the small attention she wanted when we were younger, and now she was scarred forever.
Now that I was mature, I realized that I did love her, more than anything else. I now loved the girl that was always there for me, the one who always had my back, solved my problems, and loved me unconditionally. I had hope that maybe I could fix the mess I had made, give her happiness again, and really show her how much I cared for her. But at the moment, with her asleep, and the house silent, all I could do was give her what she had longed for most.
I planted a small, soft kiss on her tender lips, then whispered desperately, "I'm sorry, Harper." With that I rose to leave, and before I knew it, I was gone. Walking down the street smiling but still guilty, I planned to visit her tomorrow. I would begin my cleanup then.