Witty. Intelligent. Beautiful. Independent.
That's what I want to become. That's what will never happen. Comfort me, say that everything will be all right, I'll be like that someday. Notice that someday. Sorry hun, that's just not the way to comfort. You're supposed to say, wow you're so perfect already. Why would you want to change? But you'll never say that. Because you only have eyes for her.
Witty. Intelligent. Beautiful. Independent.
I'm so dependent, on everyone around me. What people think, what people think about me. And it's just so fucking stupid. He knows this, and I know what he's thinking now. I'm not like her, will never be like her.
I'll never be beautiful. You know it, I know it. Beauty charms are just lies, disguises. Parading around in a mask all day. Not the real thing. He won't settle for the inveracity that I am, when he could settle for so much more.
Intelligence, is something that's just there. No matter how much you study, and you study so much, you aren't meant to be intelligent. You can try, and you try so much, but it isn't enough. There's nothing that he can talk about with me. He can't talk about the latest Potions theories and Ancient Runes translations with me, like he talks about them with her.
I'm not funny, I'm not clever. I can never be that way. It's bred into you as you are born, just the way you learn to speak, to think. I was bred to be the quintessential pureblood wife, to catch the most successful man out there. That's it. And it's not working because he is not drawn to me, like he is to her.
Witty. Intelligent. Beautiful. Independent.
And that's all I want to be. That's all he wants me to be.
For precious, fleeting, breathless moments, I think wow, I'm getting there. I'm going to be that person. Just optimism on my part. Meaningless words those are. I am the utmost antithesis of those four small, but oh so important, words.
Witty. Intelligent. Beautiful. Independent.
I write those words down and stare at them. I give up, it's never going to happen. I just want to be what he wants. I want to be someone he can love. But I can't. For a moment, just a moment, I'm idealistic. There will be a sign that giving up is wrong, giving up on him, is wrong. Oh please let that happen. I wait for that sign, just a couple of minutes.
Nothing happens.
Not even a gust of wind from the open window. My heart, my hopes, my dreams, my wishes. All shattered into so many pieces, that it will never be found again. Even if I want it to be found. I think, Good luck with him, Granger. And I crumple the page and throw it away.
Goodbye.
A/N: I know it's short, not really supposed to be long. It's just something that started writing itself. I hope I kind of conveyed some type of emotion. That's what I was aiming for. I would love constructive criticism to make my writing in general better. I know it's kind of ambiguous but it's supposed to be. But I think I gave a little clue at the end. :P