Goodbye.
This is for you, my beautiful angel. A note of goodbye.
I have to leave. This is just a small token, a token of my love. I will have gone before you even read this. You think you know me, and you may be right. You may understand why I left. But you might not. I do this for you.
You think you know me but you don't. Because if you did you'd know I brood all day over whether or not I'm even good enough to be near you. To touch your face, whether I should even be allowed to touch your creamy skin. I can't stand it when people say I'm better than you. When in all truth and reality, it is you that is better. Too good to sit among those oafs that you call `friends' and laugh. You deserve much better company. You think that you don't deserve even them but if I could give you what you deserved you would live upon Mount Olympus. Among the gods and goddesses, to be worshipped day in and day out. You, that deserves better than flying around in the air, trying to find that blasted snitch. Even that beautiful ball of gold doesn't earn your touch.
Your hands are like those of angels, such delicate fingers and that neck! Oh, it's like a ballerina's, long and elegant. I wish I could lay delicate kisses and nips along it all day and night. Some days, I sit in the drafty common room and wonder why you chose me. Of all people, when you could have so easily had any person you damn well pleased. Any person would throw themselves at your glorious feet. I've seen girls and boys alike gaze at you longingly, even that girl with the ugly mudblood face. But now I'm being stereotypical.
I gaze at you every day across the dining hall; laughing and giggling like it were holiday. And they pay attention as though you were so special... and you are. They gaze at you, admiration and love showing in all their eyes. You try so hard to get that, or maybe you don't. I think it's that latter. The moment I saw you I fell in love. From that day on the train. I cry sometimes thinking about you rejecting me, but I guess it was I who did that. My fault.
All the day's I live I will worship at your feet. Praying with bliss that you even looked my way. That you cast those lovely eyes upon me, that you looked my way. I'm so happy you decided I was worthy enough of your company. Even though we both know I am not. We both know, I am about as unworthy as one could get.
When you turn now to look at me, I want to cry. Cry for joy and cry in misery. Joy that you have chosen me and not some other. But misery that you stay with me, a child among adults. I don't know the first thing to pleasing you, although I have had many lovers and lovers alike. I wouldn't know where to start on your cherubic body. Should I start at the perfect face? The one so many first years fantasize about. The one that captivated me? Or the hands of alabaster? So cool and warm at the same time. How can others say you aren't affectionate? I know first hand, you kiss away my tears and smooth my fears. But I suppose it was the way you were raised. I suppose having no parents was hard, no one to love you. But hopefully I can give you all the love you need. All the protection of an army and then hold you close `till you close your eyes at night.
I don't think you know me. Did you know that so many nights I cry myself to sleep, the drapes heavy around my bed. I can hear the boys I sleep near snoring and moaning in their sleep. All I can think of then is you. You with the body of an archangel, the face of a god. You, that so many have come to love and adore. Why? Why did you choose me? I have so many faults, so many problems. But the others have noticed, have you not also? I can look in the mirror and point out a thousand faults, a million flaws, a trillion errors. Can you not see them? But all you see is me. The child of hate and death. The child born of nothing but blackness, yet, you still see the light. How? How can you? I have all but given up. I don't care what they say, I don't deserve you. So, I say to you, my child of light and love, forget me. Forget my face and my body. Forget the nights I spent in your arms, the times I cried, the days I feared my own heart. Just forget the smiles, the smirks, the laughs
of joy. I know mine were true, but how can I be sure yours were? I can't. But I must leave, for a world where you would collapse instantly from grief and horror. I must do this, all for you. I must leave and never look back; I must carry the heavy heart and tears. Please don't come for me, this is for you. All for my beautiful cherubic boy, with the hair of silver. I love you my little dragon, Harry.
This is for you, my beautiful angel. A note of goodbye.
I have to leave. This is just a small token, a token of my love. I will have gone before you even read this. You think you know me, and you may be right. You may understand why I left. But you might not. I do this for you.
You think you know me but you don't. Because if you did you'd know I brood all day over whether or not I'm even good enough to be near you. To touch your face, whether I should even be allowed to touch your creamy skin. I can't stand it when people say I'm better than you. When in all truth and reality, it is you that is better. Too good to sit among those oafs that you call `friends' and laugh. You deserve much better company. You think that you don't deserve even them but if I could give you what you deserved you would live upon Mount Olympus. Among the gods and goddesses, to be worshipped day in and day out. You, that deserves better than flying around in the air, trying to find that blasted snitch. Even that beautiful ball of gold doesn't earn your touch.
Your hands are like those of angels, such delicate fingers and that neck! Oh, it's like a ballerina's, long and elegant. I wish I could lay delicate kisses and nips along it all day and night. Some days, I sit in the drafty common room and wonder why you chose me. Of all people, when you could have so easily had any person you damn well pleased. Any person would throw themselves at your glorious feet. I've seen girls and boys alike gaze at you longingly, even that girl with the ugly mudblood face. But now I'm being stereotypical.
I gaze at you every day across the dining hall; laughing and giggling like it were holiday. And they pay attention as though you were so special... and you are. They gaze at you, admiration and love showing in all their eyes. You try so hard to get that, or maybe you don't. I think it's that latter. The moment I saw you I fell in love. From that day on the train. I cry sometimes thinking about you rejecting me, but I guess it was I who did that. My fault.
All the day's I live I will worship at your feet. Praying with bliss that you even looked my way. That you cast those lovely eyes upon me, that you looked my way. I'm so happy you decided I was worthy enough of your company. Even though we both know I am not. We both know, I am about as unworthy as one could get.
When you turn now to look at me, I want to cry. Cry for joy and cry in misery. Joy that you have chosen me and not some other. But misery that you stay with me, a child among adults. I don't know the first thing to pleasing you, although I have had many lovers and lovers alike. I wouldn't know where to start on your cherubic body. Should I start at the perfect face? The one so many first years fantasize about. The one that captivated me? Or the hands of alabaster? So cool and warm at the same time. How can others say you aren't affectionate? I know first hand, you kiss away my tears and smooth my fears. But I suppose it was the way you were raised. I suppose having no parents was hard, no one to love you. But hopefully I can give you all the love you need. All the protection of an army and then hold you close `till you close your eyes at night.
I don't think you know me. Did you know that so many nights I cry myself to sleep, the drapes heavy around my bed. I can hear the boys I sleep near snoring and moaning in their sleep. All I can think of then is you. You with the body of an archangel, the face of a god. You, that so many have come to love and adore. Why? Why did you choose me? I have so many faults, so many problems. But the others have noticed, have you not also? I can look in the mirror and point out a thousand faults, a million flaws, a trillion errors. Can you not see them? But all you see is me. The child of hate and death. The child born of nothing but blackness, yet, you still see the light. How? How can you? I have all but given up. I don't care what they say, I don't deserve you. So, I say to you, my child of light and love, forget me. Forget my face and my body. Forget the nights I spent in your arms, the times I cried, the days I feared my own heart. Just forget the smiles, the smirks, the laughs
of joy. I know mine were true, but how can I be sure yours were? I can't. But I must leave, for a world where you would collapse instantly from grief and horror. I must do this, all for you. I must leave and never look back; I must carry the heavy heart and tears. Please don't come for me, this is for you. All for my beautiful cherubic boy, with the hair of silver. I love you my little dragon, Harry.