Hello, and welcome to my new story. The only warning here is that I felt depressed while writing it, so I apologize for the clumsyness of it.

UH! I by the way, heard the Killers - When you were young when writing it.

Being a Thinker

Have you ever felt like the biggest idiot in history?

I have.

I recently came to see the facts that I've been trying to repress for so long. It must sound worse than it is. Or at least I hope so.

I'm gay. A queer. Homosexual. A lesbian. Lesbo. Lezzy. I could continue. But I won't. It hurts. It physically pains me. How I hate labels. No, I mean REALLY hate them.

You see, I'm supposed to be really smart. And I guess I am. I remember this test one of the girls told me to take. It was from a magazine like "Witch Weekly" or something like that. But it said 'Are you A) a Thinker B) a Feeler.

And I had to choose A. I mean I am. Ask me about anything, I probably know it, or a bit of it, and if I don't I'll make sure, to learn about it. The left side of my brain controls my life, and I admit it.

And I guess, that's a good thing. But being a thinker also means that I tend to overanalyse everything. I can't let anything go, if I think that there was the least bit more to it. And it sucks.

I know I shouldn't. But I tend to.

I wish I was a feeler. I wish that I'd just go with the flow, without thinking about the consequences. But again, I just can't let go. That's what it hurt when I saw whom I'd fell in love with.

By best friends girlfriend. And my other best friends little sister. Kind of creepy huh?

I mean, I know I've had this thing for Ginny for a while, because she used to appear in my dreams, and say cheesy lines to me, after where she'd make a bed magically appear, or do 'something' for me that just made me love her even more.

But reality haunts me. She usually sits on Harry's lab, kissing his neck, and I sit there beside them, watching in horror. It's like going to a movie on some level I guess. A horror/comedy.

Because I sit beside them, smiling at them occasionally, and though I know it must seem forced, (because I'm not good at hiding anything, which is why I'm usually brutally honest) I'm glued to the spot, squirming in my seat every time she kissed him, wishing it was me.

I guess that's where the comedy sets in. I watch her every move, and once in a while she catches my eyes, and our eyes lock… I'm constantly worried she might see the swirling emotions in them. The love. The Lust. The need. The aching for her constant attention. I'd HATE for her to know.

But she smiles at me, kisses Harry and says "Well, we should find you a guy huh, 'Mione?" After which she looks lovingly at Harry (I sincerely hate him at this point, every times his clammy hands touch her, I feel a growing need to smack him one) "I wonder if Ron is dating anyone at this point? Or maybe Fred! He liked you some time ago you know?"

"…."

You know how I said I'd hate for her to know?..

At times I wish she knew. Just to make her feel guilty or something, occasionally jumping off of Harry to make me just a little more comfortable in their presence. I don't know what I want at this point. I'm terrified of doing anything stupid.

Maybe I really am a thinker, and though it's on one level comforting, I just always thought it might be too much to ask to actually fall in love. I wanted to feel in love, because I heard so many wonderful things about it, and now it's finally happened - I want it gone.