Draco,
"The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear."
You once quoted that for me in a letter. If I remember correctly it was the night after we took my Firebolt out during curfew. You told me you felt trapped within these walls and I asked if you wanted break some rules.
We flew as fast as we could that night, hoping our problems simply wouldn't be able to catch us. The midnight sky didn't do much to illuminate our path, but the stars caught our breath in their fists and it felt like they would never let it go.
You once told me it was the best night of your life.
I remember sitting on your bed after, I was reading one of your muggle books you keep lying around. I looked over at you and you were scribbling ferociously into a notebook. You didn't tell me what it was. I didn't push, but I knew what it was. I knew that it would have been for me. Because who else would it have been for?
There are so many things I need to say to you- want to say to you. I can't seem to do this in person, not because I do not wish to swallow my pride. For you I would gladly risk choking on it in order to apologize.
Is that what this is? An apology? Honestly I'm not quite sure.
I can't seem to tell you in person because- well, frankly, because I know this won't change anything. This shouldn't change anything.
I don't need a reply, you don't need to forgive me for my mistakes. I simply wish to offer solace. Closure.
The question of whether the closure is for me or for you is still up to the jury to be honest.
I miss you. This fact is inevitable.
Sometimes I like to think that this is just a really- I mean really- long reprieve of our friendship. That there's still a chance. That one day I'll walk out of my common room and you'll be there, waiting for me, ready to give me a swift smack in the head and calling me an idiot for giving up.
We always talked hypothetically. Of what would happen "if one day..." I'm starting to realize that maybe we just talked pathetically, because here we are, in that "one day" situation and look at where we are; and I have nobody but myself to blame, really.
Granted, we weren't perfect. YOU weren't perfect- I definitely wasn't, but ultimately I said the last words.
And they were rather rude,
weren't they?
I'm sorry for that the most.
I like to think that I never would have said those things if it weren't for the amount of Firewhiskey I'd had at the party that provided me a false sense of...courage?
I was tired, I'm sure you were, too.
I've always been one to live in THIS moment. To never consider my repercussions. To think that how I feel NOW will be how I feel forever.
It's such a naive way to think.
This letter has been in quasi development since the 15th of February.
I never know what to say. I never know when I'm finished.
Here are some facts:
I love you. I did before and I think I'll continue to do so. The day I said I didn't, I lied. I don't like to say it, I didn't like saying it to you especially because I always felt like there was a promise in there somewhere. I always felt like it meant more to you, something that I couldn't live up to.
I fucked up. I did, but so did you. Towards the end you'd tell me I never made time for you any more. That you were always the one to initiate getting together. That wasn't true. I had always asked if you were free after classes. You were always busy, too: but while I wasn't shaken by the physical distance that was growing between us, you were. That pushed me away further.
I wasn't and I still am not ready for a relationship. I don't and I didn't want one. So then why did it feel like I was in one?
This pushed me away the furthest.
I was too close and I scrambled to get away.
There are things that I will never be able to undo. You know things that no one else will ever know. I'm not sure if I regret it.
Towards the end, I loved you, you were my best friend. I just don't think I liked you anymore.
So many things were coming to light. Unavoidable things- lies that were suddenly becoming apparent.
I hated the lying. Whenever I was with you I felt like the world was at our feet. That we could do anything. That we would always have each other and that I knew everything about you, but then I would turn around and I heard unmistakable truths.
I guess here is where you would ask why I would believe every one else over you. I don't have a good answer.
I didn't feel like I could trust you anymore.
I miss you.
Remember that time you said you felt like you were missing a limb that time I was gone for 2 weeks? I felt like there was a ball and chain around mine.
Everything I did seemed like I had to run it by you first. I was afraid to tell you things. I didn't want that.
I thought we could fix it, but I freaked out one night and ruined any chance.
I miss you.
I miss you.
I miss you.
There were a lot of fucked up things about our friendship, but there were so many beautiful, wonderful, hilarious, elegant, and good about it as well.
There hasn't been a day since that I never thought about how you were doing.
And I am both incredibly happy and incredibly devastated that you now have things in your life that I know nothing about. Wonderful, beautiful, hilarious, elegant and good things that I am not a part of.
There are wonderful things in my life that physically pained me to realize that I could not share with you.
I'll never be as important as I was to you then.
That hurts me the most.
And that's selfish. It's terrible, but I have to say it, because I need to tell the truth. I have to say it because this has been what I've held down. These truths are what I've been choking on.
I miss you.
I miss you.
I miss you.
But sometimes I'm glad we don't talk any more. I'm not the type of friend you deserve. I don't think I'm the type of friend you need, either.
I miss you.
This- whatever this is- is a complete mess of words and thoughts that seem so fluid and deep in my head.
I'm sending this now. I'm not sure if it's ready and maybe there are some things I've left out, but I'm doing this in my own fashion- spontaneously and unthinkingly.
I'm not sure what you'll do when you read this, I would just like you to know that I don't mind not getting any type of response. I know that's what happened last time when you were in my position and I wouldn't blame you.
Carrie Bradshaw wrote, "We only obsess over relationships that feel unfinished."
I'm hoping I can stop obsessing. I don't want to wake up one morning five years from now and still think about how this ended.
We were perfectly matched, maybe that's why we burnt out. There could be truth to what Kurt Cobain said.
But that wasn't the ending our friendship deserved.
So I guess that's what this letter is- an apology- and a goodbye. I'm saying what I can to move on.
I'm sorry.
"I do not say goodbye. I believe that's one of the bullshitiest words ever invented. It's not like you're given the choice to say bad-bye, or awful-bye, or couldn't-care-less-about-you-bye. Everytime you leave, it's supposed to be a good one."I'll be seeing you, Draco.
Yrs,
Harry
(By the way, I banged your dad)