As I'm sure you already know, I am not JK Rowling, and as such, I don't own any of her work. I only claim the angst ;p
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Sometimes, on those rare nights when sleep eludes me, I oft think of days long ago, of your warm arms encircling and protecting me from the harsh realities I faced day after dreary day. On these occasional acts of selfish indulgence, I unconsciously find myself quite comfortably settled on my front porch, lighting up a fag and staring into the vast unrelenting night sky. I think of the missed opportunities and the hasty decisions insuring my future led onto a lonely and inescapable path, trapping myself in a monotonous routine. Cutting myself off from you.
Those nights few and far between, I can reminisce, look back to our inconspicuous beginnings without even the slightest inclination of spite or vengeance, and rejuvenate myself, the stream of life filling me to the point of bursting. I relish in it.
Ouch!
I shake my fingers in a vain attempt to displace the sharp stinging sensation of bare flame upon my calloused skin. The annoyance (for it is hardly severe enough to be called pain), urges me back to the present, letting my past crumble, accumulating into nothingness... into ashes. I discard of the butt with a sigh as the glacial wind causes me to abandon my post, chilling me to the bone as I recall the present. The ever encompassing bitterness is now my only companion. I am forced to tuck you away once again into the safety of my memories in fear of tainting my only pure recollections of you. Those halcyon days have long ended, and my unconditional childish love for you has no place in the uncertainty of a thousand tomorrows.
How could he abandon his only true family, bound closer than even blood. How could he leave me alone, the last survivor? I wrench myself from these self destructive thoughts, knowing with years of experience, that such thoughts only serve to render life unbearable. As I seek to glamorize you in my mind, to preserve your memory, I fall into routine and fix myself a piping hot cup of tea, hoping to appease the ever-present icy desolation from both my body and soul. I set the innocent child you once were aside, a boon for another day, and I abandon you. As always. An ancient endowment, collecting dust until the day oblivion inevitably escapes me. Then, and only then, will I be allowed to placate myself with the haunting memories of you. Only then my love. Forgive me, but until then…
Will you wait for me?
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The insomniatic ramblings of a madwomen.
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Sanoii