I hate you, you know.
I hate you for so many reasons… Too many to count.
I hate that you've made me face what I am.
I hate that you make me face my fears and be even a little confrontational.
I hate that only you make me feel like I can never walk away.
I hate that I'm so needy.
But only for you.
I hate that there is no possible way to escape.
Not even a little.
I used to-still do, actually-entertain thoughts of just not showing up at the same time I always do.
Would you worry?
Would you seek me out, so concerned?
Or would you wait, knowing that I can't bear to be too far from you for long.
Sometimes, I wish I had never gotten so close to you because then it wouldn't hurt so bad to have to leave you as I know it will when I have to leave.
And I still ask myself-all the time!- "What if I didn't show up? What would you do?"
I so badly want to know!
Would you panic as I would if you didn't show up?
Would you stay calm?
Come and find me?
What would you do?
I hate that you can so easily walk away and I would never be able to do so.
I'm so pathetically weak. I hate it.
So pitiful, so dependent.
And there's you: A vision of glory.
Of course, you don't see yourself that way, but you are.
You're so… Magnetic and irresistible. You're infectious and you bubble over.
You're more addicting than any drug.
And I'm constantly drunk on you.
How don't you see that?
How are your many amazing qualities not incredibly clear?
You don't see your brilliance, your beauty, your compassion, your talent, your humor.
You don't see any of it.
And that's all I see-you are all I see.
And you don't see it.
All you see when you look at yourself is an overweight housewife.
All of your amazing, innumerable qualities are lost on you.
You keep your house impeccable and your children safe and in line.
And you think you're frumpy.
I think you're gorgeous.
I hate that I love you, but I do.
So much.
With my whole heart.
I love you, Molly.
-Tonks