Summary: The war is over and Harry is supposed to be happy. Harry writes a letter addressed to Ginny three months after their first baby's birth, never meaning to give it to her and Ginny finds it years later. Vignette, oneshot.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Without a purpose
Give me a reason.
Give me a reason to live. Give me a purpose to go on. Give me a dream.
Something, anything to do.
I'm alive, yet not really living.
My heart is beating. Soft, steady rhythm, keeping my blood flowing, my body working But for what? It no longer feels.
I have no desires. I have no dreams.
Colours no longer hold any beauty. Food has lost its taste. I eat, I sleep, I make love to you, my wife, and I feel nothing.
This brief mortality is nothing but a burden.
I watch you feed our baby, murmuring gentle words to him, kissing his soft hair. But I don't feel proud like a new father should.
No love. No relief. No pain. No sorrow. Nothing.
I am… -empty.
Don't burden me with this existence any longer, my wife. Don't hold me in your sleep. Don't smile at me. Don't kiss me.
My wife. Let me go. Set me free. Can't you see I'm not happy?
I hate the mornings, well not really, but I feel like I would if I could still feel. I lie on my bed, waiting for the sunrise and I loath every single one of them.
For it means nothing but another day to exist, waiting for the night. And I lay there, awake, night after night, next to you, my sleeping wife, I dream, I hope, I could fall asleep.
And never wake up.