Punk Direction (Niall Horan love story)

I remembered I cried a lot when it was over between me and Niall, I cried even more when I found out and when I saw him for the first time I cried even more. But it was a different type of crying. They were tears of joy. I finally had something no one could take away from me, he wasn’t a lie, he wasn’t a secret. He was my new kind of love, my renewed heart belonged to him.
He was the one to blame for gluing the pieces of my heart together. He was the one who I could blame for having a reason to get up every morning, work, eat and sleep. He was the only reason that kept me alive and breathing.
It was such a new kind of love, so strong, so big and so gorgeous. Nothing he could ever do would get me annoyed or angry enough to leave him behind.
I could only smile when he was as clumsy as me around the house or how he tried to speak with his mouth full. He sure as hell loved a good picture and I couldn’t help but to giggle when he squirmed around the black couch, his big blue eyes were always so curious and so interrogative, so thirsty for knowledge. He loved to grab my phone and press random buttons just to learn what use they had, and he often used follow our dog around the house.
He is the new love of my life, and the last man I’ll give my heart to: Dylan Owen Skyes.

Notes