We used to have good times together
But now I feel them slip away
It makes me cry to see love die
So sad to watch good love go bad
Remember how we used to feel dear
You said nothing could change you mind
It breaks my heart to see us part
So sad to watch good love go bad
Is it any wonder that I feel so blue
When I know for certain that I'm losing you
Remember how we used to feel dear
You said nothing could change your mind
It breaks my heart to see us part
So sad to watch good love go bad
So sad to watch good love go bad
His beautiful green eyes bored into her, threatening to make her cry again. He stood there, on their living room carpet, his suitcase sitting next to him. Tears brimmed his eyelids. She looked past him at the wall, at the fist shaped dent in the drywall. She blinked a few times and shook her head to clear the fog. He cleared his throat.
"I guess... I'll just owl you the papers then?" His voice, unstable, cracked halfway through. Damn him for trying to be so bloody strong. There he was, standing on his feet, ready to walk out and she couldn't say a damn word. She cursed herself again. She wanted to get up. She wanted to fling herself at him, begging him not to leave. Not to walk out on her like this. But she didn't have the strength. She had fought so hard for so so long, she just didn't have the strength to do it anymore.
"Gin... please say something. Anything." He whispered. He looked like he felt, helpless. He wanted to grab her, hug her like he used to. Hold her close and say everything was going to be okay. He knew it wasn't though. Something had happened in the ten years they had been married.
He blamed it on the war, but she said they weren't in love in the beginning. Maybe she was right. Maybe they had married because during a war, especially a war as awful and bloody as this one had been, you just needed someone to fall asleep next to. Someone to break down to. Maybe that's why they married. Either way, it just didn't work anymore. They both knew it, but both denied it until they couldn't take it anymore. The fights were too much to take anymore. Ginny was only 28, she had a lot of life left. He wanted to see her happy. And he knew she wasn't happy with him. As much as it hurt him to admit, it was over. He needed to leave. He breathed in a few times, deeply, like she taught him, to calm down.
"Harry." He looked at her, sitting on the floor looking broken, tear stains on her pale cheeks. She sighed a long and painful sigh.
"Owl me the papers tommorrow." She was looking anywhere but him. He knew she had closed off her emotions, and there would be no more crying or talking about it from her. She was stubborn. So he nodded, knowing full well she diddn't see it. He reached down, picked up the suitcase, felt the hard leather handles against his sweaty palms. Suddenly, he was overly aware of the whole house. He could smell the coffee and vodka in Ginny's mug on the endtable. He could hear the radio in the distant kitchen. The cold July breeze that blew in from the front window.
He turned and walked the few steps to the front door. He already had his shoes on. He was waiting for her to say something. Waiting for her to try and stop him. But she was silent. He turned, and took a last loving look at his wife. He soaked in her picture, to store away for memory. He took in her long slender tan legs that were curled under her. The jean cut off shorts that he used to say jokingly made her ass look so good, the black tank top, the long stick straight auburn hair that fell around her freckled shoulders. She was looking out the window, away from him. He stared at her honey colored eyes, her snub little nose, dusted with freckles. He didn't know what he was going to do without her. So he left.
She watched out the window as he walked off the porch and out on the street to Apparate, probably to Ron and Hermiones. She gave a ghost of a smile as she saw the black curly hair move with that tall strong body. She was mourning, yes. She had cried about a gallon of tears for him. But somewhere, deep inside of her, she knew that it would be okay. She wasn't sure how, but as she watched the love of her life pop into nothing, she was overcome by a great sense of calm. Yes, it was sad to watch good love go bad. But she knew, somehow she knew, that her life wasn't over just yet.