I love her. I know, I do.
My friends tell me, "You don't love Ginny."
But I do. She is my friend and I did love her. As a friend and as so much more.
I hadn't had the chance yet to prove that to her. She wouldn't give me that chance. She told me that we couldn't She couldn't jeopardize what her parents would do if they found out.
I had been content to wait.
But can I love her anymore?
I tried to talk to her. I did. I went to her.
My day already was shot to hell. I went to her because I had begun buying into all the crap dribble-drabble that my friends had poured into me.
"She's playing you."
"She just likes the attention."
"If she really loved you back, she would at least try."
"You need to find out what's going on with her."
"Get a backbone. Ask her."
So I did.
I asked her.
"Are you playing me?"
"Why can't we at least try?"
"What's going on with you?"
She answered.
"I wouldn't play you, make them understand."
"We can't try. My parents would kill me."
I tried again. From another point. Using my own arguments, ones that had been nagging at me since the start.
"But, you sneaked for your ex-boyfriend. The one who cheat and lied to you. The one who played you."
She answered again and the truth cut deeper than any knife could have.
"I can't love you."
"My mom knows you gay and it scares her."
"Hermione, I bloody well cannot."
"How would she feel if it was her own daughter?"
"I don't want to be a disgrace."
"To my mom."
"To my dad."
"I don't know what to say to make you understand."
"And I don't care."
"See you."
She left.
Tears burned my eyes.
So, to everyone who told me to talk to her:
Everything's worse.
I hope you're happy.