“You want to break up…?” My steps halt abruptly, skidding against the tufted rug beneath me.

Like a switch has been flipped, my heart starts beating rapidly. I can hear it in my ears. This whole conversation—hell, this whole week—has been anxiety inducing, but you saying that has pushed it over the edge.

I’ve not even been home from tour for 5 whole days, and my world is already crashing around me.

As I was boarding my plane to come home, you had messaged me, the start to all of this. It was a vague and cold message about wanting to talk when I got back. I didn’t sleep a wink on that whole flight. And, of course, when I was back, I was immediately got pulled into meeting after meeting and wasn’t able to talk to you face to face.

Until now.

We’ve been dating for years. Since I was still just the one with too much hair in One Direction. 4 years, to be exact. You’re the love of my life, you’re it for me, I know that. So, how could you be suggesting we end it all right now?

I know that I’ve been busy, you’ve made that very clear tonight, but it’s not my fault! My solo career is picking up, I’m getting everything I wanted! How is that a negative? It’s hard being away so much, you and I both know that all too well, but it’s not like I’m actively choosing to be as far away from you as possible. I don’t want to be.

God, I can’t lose you. You’re the best thing in my life. You’re my future! But how can I fix this when I’m not the one in control?

I’ll do anything I have to to fix this, to keep you. I have to. No matter what it takes.

“Baby… Please, no. You don’t mean that…”