Pain makes you grow.
I stood there, beyond tears, beyond everything, "I miss you," I mouthed to the air around me, praying that somehow he could hear.
War is one of those things that you don't notice hurts until it's too late.
The box was a black, with silver details and emerald inlay. A beautiful piece of art. The silver made two entwining snakes, each detail given so much attention that I could swear the creatures moved, breathed.
And memories are what make war hurt.
"I have a surprise for you," he smiled, "close your eyes." Laughing I closed my eyes and put out my hands, "what is it?" I asked. "You'll see," was all he said, and I felt a weight in my hands. Opening my eyes I saw in my hands a black velvet box with two enchanted snakes twining around each other. "Oh!" I breathed, "it's beautiful." "Open it" he said, hardly capable of containing his excitement. Inside the box was a beautiful chain. Gasping, I reached out to touch it, and the links slid across my skin like water. "Here" he whispered, and took the chain to place it around my neck, where it rested lightly on my collarbone glowing like a moonbeam. "Now you'll always remember me," he joked, then, serious, told me, "I love you, never for a second forget that." "I love you too," I had said, not knowing the weight of those words would stay with me forever. But neither of us had known back then.
But regrets hurt most of all.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, crying, "I forgot." "Shh," I responded, "it's ok, it's all ok." The chains around our necks sparked silvery light, and we held each other for dear life, wishing for time to end in that dismal place where a pair of arms meant heaven. "Will you come back?" he asked, wiping his eyes. "Always," I promised, "no matter what." and then, softly, he said, "go back to her now, your wife will worry"
Pain is expression.
Two snakes in the shape of a heart sank into the ground, covering the true piece of beauty that was his face, his body, his smile. One chain, pale as moonlight and smooth as water, sank into the ground, attached around a pale neck. To the side a chain sat on my collarbone like a moonbeam plucked from the cloudless sky. And then I cried.
Pain is love.
"Are you ok babes?" said a voice from far away. I turned my head to face my wife. "Yes Ginny," I lied. "Why did you want to come to this?" she asked, callous, "you hardly knew Malfoy." I cried then, into her shoulder; beyond words now, mouthing over and over, "I'm sorry, so sorry" as if the wind could whisper it into my beloved's ear across the valley of death. Calming down, I straightened myself and wiped my eyes. "Are you sure you're ok?" she questioned. "Fine," I lied, trying to smile, "Pain makes you grow." It has to.
And as I walked away I whispered to the wind, "I haven't forgotten."
That night I left, promising to be back, but I too returned in a black box with silver snakes, an accident. And somewhere a heaven was made in the circle of a pair of arms, with two chains like moonlight promising true love for eternity.