It's been six months, twenty two days, and ten hours since I've lost my other half.

Before I'd say "since he left", but I've learned now that he'd never left. He's still in our memories, we still have him.

It's strange how I was surrounded by loving people who were going through the exact same thing as I was, but yet I felt so alone.

For the first month, I couldn't move. My parents probably thought I had gone mental, and now, thinking back on it, I feel bad for worrying them.

It was a scary period for me, though. I was so scared, and sad, and depressed, and empty and no matter what they did or said, I wouldn't move. It's like I shut down, physically and emotionally, and nothing mattered. They just didn't understand. I had no will to move, I didn't want to move, still do sometimes too. And it doesn't exactly help when people tell me to get motivated, it's like yeah hold on, lemme run down to the potion shop and pick me up a vial of motivation.

At that time all I wanted was to stay in our old room, at least there I still felt my connection with Fred, some nights I'd lay in bed and speak to him, half-expecting an answer and the other half knowing there'd be nothing but silence and all I could do about it was cry.

At times, I could have sworn I've seen him. And to this day, I'm still not sure if it was a hallucination or if he really did come to visit me.

My mother convinced me to go out one day. Everyday she and dad would try to coax me to get outside of the house, but I wouldn't listen, I had no desire to. But that day was different. She caused my epiphany.

She cried, sobbed actually, and it was then that I realized I was hurting her, my whole family actually, and that now was the time to get my life together, and I did.

I decided that I'd get back to work with the shop and even go to see a physiatrist.

After a few weeks I adjusted to my work schedule, I even reconciled with Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Oliver Wood, friends I haven't seen since that dreadful day.

Sometimes I felt alright and sometimes, all of a sudden I'd feel alone and lost. My psychiatrist prescribed me medicine for my depression, and even some for post traumatic stress, which I was diagnosed with around the same time as my diagnoses of depression.

We all knew that Fred would want us all to be happy, but the message just wasn't clicking in my mind.

I keep trying to convince myself everything's alright, and when people would ask me, "How are you doing?" I'd always answer, "Well."

I smiled and laughed around my family and friends, but the empty feeling never left. No matter how hard I'd try or what I did, the emptiness would never leave me, and I'd lie awake late at night and cry.

Looking back on it, I find it strange how not only me, but people in general, have the tendency to bottle up our feelings.

I wish I knew then what I know now.

I hated how I was living my life. I hated how it seemed everyone was better at living than I was, my psychiatrist even told me, "Not everyone's made out for living." and it was then, that I had my second epiphany, I must live. I will live. It wasn't only an epiphany though, it was the bravest thing I've ever done, choosing to continue my life when I wanted to die,which brings me my message to my readers.. Keep going. Even when you feel you have nothing to live for, when you feel like you can't go another day, just keep going, and I know it's easier said than done, but just keep telling yourself.

Maybe not today, not, tomorrow, or even a whole year, but eventually you'll be better and look back and be able to say, "I made it." Just give it some time. Time heals all and with time, I made progress.

I was able to genuinely laugh again, I could talk about Fred without a lump forming in my front, though at times I'd get it but only out of happiness of the memory of my brother.

But I made progress, I was living.

And something amazing happened. You know, they say you fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time, and that was true in my case.

A few weeks ago a new coffee shop opened down the street from the shop, and I'd always stop in on my way to the shop.

I stopped in one day, as usual, and ordered a hot chocolate with peppermint and made my way to my usual spot.

After sitting down I pull out the Daily Prophet and begin to read to kill some time.

After a few minutes, someone entered, which was strange since I was usually the only customer since it was so early in the morning.

The customer sat down a few stools away from me and I glanced over and at the same moment, she glanced up at me. She gave me a friendly smile, and as corny as this sounds, I forgot to breath. I couldn't help but smile back before she quickly directed her gaze back to her book.

I pretended to read the paper but in reality, I was really watching the intriguing stranger just a few feet away from me.

She was lovely.

She had caramel smooth skin, curly dark hair that was thrown into a messy ponytail, and had a habit of tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear as she read.

There comes a time in every man's life when you meet someone and you just want to make them smile for the rest of your life, this is that time for me.

Love at first sight? Does it really exist?

It did for me.

The next day I came, she was there. She was seated in the same spot, but instead of reading, she was sketching away in a sketch book. When I came in, she looked up and smiled at me, and of course I smiled back, which became a routine. Everyday I visited the coffee shop, hoping to see her and maybe exchange some small talk if I got lucky.

And as creepy as it sounds, I enjoyed watching her because for at least a few minutes or hours I felt something, happiness.

My friends and family, who were excited to finally see me happy and excited about something, told me to just go for it and Ginny told me to YOLO I think the phrase was, some type of muggle phrase or acronym that just isn't important enough for me to explain in my autobiography.

Anyway, I couldn't just go up and talk to her. She could do much better. I'm not in their right mind would want someone diagnosed with depression and suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? Who would want someone like me?

But one day I went to the coffee shop, and she wasn't there.

I was panic-stricken and immediately regretted putting off talking to her. It would be a miracle if I were to ever see her again, a true miracle.

I went to the coffee shop every day, a week had gone by, and she still wasn't there.

One day at the shop, a week day, which is usually slow, there was a customer.

I walked over to ask if she needed any assistance, and when she turned around to answer, I, just like on the first day we met, forgot to breath.

I couldn't believe I was able to see her again. I can't help but think Fred is up there pulling some strings for me, trying to play cupid.

I stood staring at her with my mouth slightly agape, an effect no woman has ever had on me.

In a voice as smooth as velvet, she told me she didn't need any assistance.

Since she didn't I decided to go wait at the counter, but then I stopped.

Epiphany number three, what if I never see her again? It was then that I grew a pair and went to talk to her, but as soon as I was in front of her, I suddenly lost all the confidence I mustered up seconds before..

It was the closest I've ever been to her and my brain suddenly went blank and I swear I forgot how to speak in that instant.

She looked up at me with her small, almond green eyes, a confused, but still lovely smile on her face. "Hello, again." she said.

Now that I think about it, I may have made her feel a tad uncomfortable.

"Hello, George Weasley." I said, holding out my hand for her to shake. I held my breath as I thought of the many ways this could possibly go wrong, but gratefully she took my hand and shook it.

Her small hand fit perfectly in my. I couldn't help but notice how soft and warm they were, and I never wanted to let go. .. There I go again, sounding creepy.

"Meredith Yezovich." she said, giving me that smile that just warmed my insides.

"I'm just going to come out and say this." I said, trying to steady my voice.

She nodded slowly.

" I like you." I said quickly, staring down at her, waiting for a reaction.

"But you don't know me." she answered, her facial expression never changing.

"I'd sure like the chance to." I said, as we all know the smooth talker I am.

She smiled, and that was the beginning of a new chapter in my life.