What have you done to me,

I cannot sleep at night,

Food loses its taste,

Fun is no longer so,

I loved you,

You do not truly realize the depth of this emotion,

You love…HER,

Not me,

You do not laugh at my jokes,

You do not smile at my jocularity,

It is not my bed you share at night,

It is not I you love,

It is…HER,

It is freedom you have granted me,

Well guess what bitch,

I DO NOT WANT IT,

You give me freedom,

This gives you joy,

You can love HER,

But not me.

I wonder what I did,

Am I abhorrent,

Do you hate me,

Or do you not know,

Was your love for that brunette bitch better than what I could provide,

You have granted me a living Hell on earth that no tryst can fix,

I cannot drown my sorrows,

Are you curious as to why?

Its because I still love you.

Hands shaking, Harry carefully finished the letter, addressed it to Ginny's house, and sent it out with Hedwig,

…..and shot himself.

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