Ginny Weasley had cried herself to sleep that night. And every night since.
She should have guessed that they could never have been anything. But for him to break her heart, to be so cruel.
She should have known; a weasel and a rat could never work out.
But a bet. A bet! She laughed, coldly, without any emotion. He hadn't broken her heart. He had taken it, chewed it, thrown it to the ground and stomped on it so many times that all that was left were little sharps, tiny fragments of a love that was lost.
A love that would never come back.
She can still remember those nights. Sher sees them every time she closes her eyes. The pain blinds her, wakes her at midnight. As if to remind her each passing day that she was but a shell. A broken, empty, shell.
"You can't die of a broken heart, you can only wish you had." She doesn't remember who said that, but she couldn't help but fully understand it now . She wanted to kill herself, surely it would be a way to find peace from her being. But truth be told, she was a coward.
A stupid, foolish, coward.
A coward who believed in lies. She had believed when he had told her he loved her. She had believed when her closest friend had held her and told her it would be okay.
Because it wouldn't be okay. Those tales that said she would fall in love again, be happy. Because that only happened in stories. But those stories never told of the girls that died alone, died from a broken heart.
She cursed him and then laughed bitterly again. She had believed. Believed in so many lies in her life. But no more, she was tired of lies. She wished someone would just tell her the truth for once. Someone tell her it wouldn't be alright.
She never found that someone.
She wasn't surprised, she searched the unsearchable.
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A little depressing, not quite sure what prompted me to write that...
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Keep Reading,
xxTunstall Chickxx
06/12/08
