He doesn't remember anymore. Maybe that is for the best.

I remember though. I have heard people say that they only think of something when they close their eyes or when they are lying awake at night. I think of him every moment of the day. It is like he is a phantom all around me and every breeze and whisper reminds me of him.

I can feel the heat of his body pressed against mine when I wake up in the morning, I remember the way he would trace the scars down my back and kiss each one. I still feel his tongue slide along the curves of my dark mark making it something beautiful.

I can still hear his laugh the first morning we woke up together, with my hair at strange angles and a pillow mark across my face. And then his kisses, like fire on my lips I can still feel him there, taste him on my tongue and every kiss since then has tasted sour compared to him.

I remember looking across the table one night and realizing that I loved him.

I will always love him.

The worst nights are the ones where in the darkness I remember the look on his face when I walked our bedroom and he hated me again. When he spat out Malfoy and petrified me. I still remember his broken sobs as Hermione explained to him that he had a whole life that he doesn't remember. I remember the empty green eyes staring back at me across the hospital room when he told me he couldn't do this.

I think he took part of me with him that day.

The first time I saw him after that was like falling off a broom into darkness all over again. There he was at the Three Broomsticks laughing with Longbottom. He never noticed me across the pub but Neville did and I can still feel the heartache in his eyes.

I can't even walk by there anymore.

I know I need to move on but somehow I keep hoping that every owl at my window is from him. That every knock at the door will be him coming to tell me he remembers. He remembers falling in love over cinnamon rolls and coffee, learning to ice skate together and sharing frozen kisses, that he will remember all of the little times he and I sat and talked for hours about nothing at all.

He doesn't need to remember everything, I would take anything.

I still have his favorite tea in the cupboard and never sleep on his side of the bed. His clothes still sit in the bottom drawer of our dresser and I can't make myself move them. Sometimes in moments of weakness I will find myself sitting on the floor clutching one of his Weasley sweaters hoping, just hoping that someday he will remember me.

But I know that day will never come.

It is my birthday today and it might just be the hardest day of the year for me. He always wanted to make this day so special for me. To distract me from my losses and from which people would not be able to tell me happy birthday. He burned three chocolate cakes the first year, the second year he only burned one. I remember sitting on the kitchen floor with him covered in flour and him close to tears. We ate spoonfuls of burnt cake that year and it was perfect.

I remember.

I will always remember loving him.

I believe that you fall in love with many people in your lifetime, but there is always one person who defines what love means to you.

His name was Harry Potter and he ruined love for me, and he can't even remember doing it.

I can't remember a lot and that is one of the few things I am sure of.

I can't remember the war or the feeling of dying, I can't remember giving speeches and attending funerals. I don't remember what it was like to hear Mrs. Weasley collapse in dry sobs at her own son's funeral, I don't remember what it was like to hold Teddy as we watched both his parents be buried. I don't remember what it was like to feel those loses and heal. I don't remember a lot of things.

I do remember some things, some things I am glad were spared, other things I wish I could will away.

I remember the look on Malfoy's face at Madam Malkin's when he bragged about his heritage. I remember laying on the floor of the train with Malfoy standing above me, the empty pain in his eyes as he took out his anger on me, I remember the way he looked lying on the tile floor his shirt in tatters with his blood swirling in the water. I remember starring into his eyes and seeing the recognition there, as he lied to his family and risked his life to save mine. I remember him in the wake of the war a phantom of who he used to be. Circling in and out of the court room, testifying against his own friends, his own father, to honor those who he knew his family had harmed. I remember the look in his eyes as he starred across the court room as I defended him. I remember a lot of things.

I don't remember falling in love with him.

The first new memory I have is waking up feeling content and safe, I remember turning and reaching for someone but I was not sure who. I remember the stark panic that set in when I felt silk slide beneath my fingers, I knew I didn't have sheets like this. Then there he was. Stark white against the door frame, he felt familiar but he also felt like an enemy. I remember the look in his eyes when I petrified him, it was the same look Hermione had when Ron left us in the forest all those years ago.

I want to remember.

I want to remember what it was like loving someone that much. I want to remember what it was like to wake up and feel that content every morning and know that I was with someone who loved me. I want to remember what it was like celebrating holidays with him. I want to remember what his favorite ice cream flavor is and how he likes his tea, does he even like tea? I want to remember all of those little things that made me fall in love with him.

I want to remember what it felt like to kiss him the first time. Did I initiate it, did he, was it soft and sweet like my kisses with Ginny or was it full of hate and passion like I remember him being. I want to remember what made me change my mind, I want tor remember what he said to Hermione to make her love him. I want to remember everything about him, I want to remember the way he smells and how he sounds when he says he loves me. I want to remember what he looks like when he is so near climax, does he moan or yell, does he say my name or do we kiss? I want to remember every inch of his body.

But I don't remember anything.

I tried at first to make myself remember. I would pour over photos and news clippings while he slept in his, no our, no his, bed. I would trace our smiles on the worn photo albums, read about our first outing together and how we danced until the sun peaked over the clouds. I would try and imagine what it felt like to love him. The more I tried the more it hurt, I would wake up and it would feel like my head was slowly splitting open and memories were pouring out of it and disappearing into the floorboards. I would black out over dinner and wake up the next morning not remembering where I was or who I was with.

I couldn't keep doing it to myself, I couldn't keep doing it to him.

I could not keep seeing that hope in his eyes when I asked about us, or the way he would reach out to touch my hair and pull away when I flinched. I could not keep letting him think there was hope when deep down I know there is no chance for me to ever remember. I could not let him keep pouring over letters from mind healers and medi wizards from across the globe in a vain hope there would be an answer. I could not keep making him stay with me when I knew I could never be what he remembered.

So I let him go.

I don't know if I will ever feel love like they tell me I felt. I don't know if I will ever remember.

I want to remember him.