Disclaimer- Not mines. Don't sue

A/N: Hello there! Yes, I do like posting, yes, I am very, VERY happy with this story. Yes, I too think that I went overboard with the formatting, but it does seem to add more to the story. Warning: Much confusion ahead. This was originally intended to be a Harry/Ginny fic, but Harry turned into Tom, so you have another Tom/Ginny fic. It seems like the same person at times, but don't worry about that.

Dedicated to that one person that makes me want to just cry.

JustCry

It's when you feel sad, and broken, and just damn depressed. When you see them

(kissing, having fun, loving)

together, it just makes your heart wrench, explode, combust into little stars that were once full of something, someone, to keep you from being

(lonely, dreadful, horribly wrong)

abnormal.

When he comes back into your dreams, and he taunts again, and again, and again. When he

(says, yells, shouts)

whispers in your ear.

/he'll never love you/

But at the end, he'd always say

(i love you, i want to caress your face with my soft words, with soft hands)

you stupid girl, stupidly pathetic girl

/and you'd fall for his bright green eyes/

and he'd love you, he'd love you for a favor.

But perhaps that everyone in the world was meant to be

(wrong, screwed up, unhappy)

ecstatic with energy, and you were meant to be

You. unloved.

When he would touch your face and tilt your head, you'd

(scream. you'd tell him to leave you alone, tell him to get his filthy, corrupted hands away)

wish that he really did love you, that he cared for you more than anything else in the world.

/life never really turned out your way/

Sometimes now, your boyfriend would

(yell, scream, shout that you weren't fit for him)

whisper sweet nothings in your ear, because

(it might just get him into your pants)

he thinks that he loves you, he thinks that you

(hate him, detest the thought and sight of him)

love him back.

/what is love, anyhow/

Your life is whirring with

(the fact that i love him. the fact that i might do something to make him notice me)

excitement, joy, just plain life.

/what's so great about life/

It's the fact that

(i love him, and there's just absolutely no way that i can get him back, have him safely in my arms)

he's evil; no, he was evil.

/evil, cruel, contaminated, but it makes no difference/

You want to

(have a home, have children and a dog, have a white picket fence with daisies growing in the flower patch outside of your sparkling clean windows)

hate him, feel absolutely nothing when boys whisper in your ear.

You want

/you want a lot of things ginevra/

wish that none of this ever happened.

But then you feel guilty about it

And then you try act, pretend to love them, love life, when all you want to be is

(six feet under, resting on a silk pillow inside a mahogany bed of death)

in his arms, loving him and being loved.

/you can't do anything about it/

(so all you can do is to)

Justcry