Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters you recognise in this fictional story belonging to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, Warner Bros. and whoever else…Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

Summary: "I am a creature of the dark living like the day…" This is Remus J Lupin; in an extremely depressive and manic way. His inner most just because there's always been something wrong.

Author's note – (PLEASE READ!) This piece involves depressing and almost manic thoughts of Remus Lupin written in an extremely dramatic way. I went a bit manic writing it so I've no idea how you'll take it. It's here, there and everywhere. Realistically, this is not canon… But the Remus see from Harry's point of view is so achingly calm. There's so much more to Remus J Lupin then meets the eye. Um, I was kind of miffed when Steve Kloves made Remus say those things about Lily in the third movie.

Imagine Remus murmuring (or sobbing) this while he's totally pissed and in the depths of despair, finally breaking down or something. ALSO reading this while listening to happy music doesn't work either... Oh yes, and read it slowly.

Living like the Day

By

infiltrate the enemy fat kid

These years drag on like lifetimes and I see only the truths of hurt and love…

I am a creature of the dark living like the day because I like living lies and I live for falsehoods for they are what have driven me to where I am today.

Hope is something I live for, for others to see and believe in. I do not hold myself hopeless or helpless for anyone except for myself. I am a hypocrite in these ways but I am strong because I see it this way.

I don't love Lily…

But I did love her. It wasn't hard. It wouldn't matter if I thought of what could be if James had never been in the picture but I would have rather kill myself because I knew that if James was never there then I never would be here.

It is never safe for these thoughts to arise from my mind. I can't breath or speak a word of it because if I ever did I knew I would betray more than what I have ever had.

I'm ungrateful for what I have. I take for granted what has been blessed to me. I'm a sinner against the strongest of pure and I know that so I cower.

And it's the same constant ache and dread that overcomes me in such a way just like every coming full moon, this tipping bottle of emotions that is a bane stronger than the moon.

But like every cycle it comes back in waves and I collapse in the grief I have learned to keep myself in. I am depression in a way that I cannot be cured.

I accepted my fate and was given something so much better.

I am wanting yet unwanted in a world where wanting never ends but can be stopped for everyone except for me. Who would have believed that someone like me could love in such a way that it would become a disease of the heart?

I'm in a crowded room with silence suffocating my soul, while I'll talk to other people.

I'm not all right. I'm not all that OK. I'm not fine.

I live an immortal's curse in the way that I have continued to see those beloved to me cherish before my eyes with distrust and tragedy. I have lived with such regret from the moment that wolf had its first taste of my human blood that it isn't possible for me to differentiate what is real anymore.

I'm not human. But I'm so much like sadness it almost stops hurting, almost.

So stop me. I feel like even entities have meaning.