Disclaimer: I do not, no matter how many times I wish it, own these characters, nor will i even own them. They belong to JK Rowling.
I have no mirrors in my flat.
Simply put, I can't abide my own reflection. The features of my face, the familiarity of my silhouette, the shadow cast as my figure slinks out of a mirrors and storefronts and photographs I no longer close my eyes, I have schooled myself to not look. I've spent a lifetime not looking at myself. I don't mean some self-loathing that eventually passes with maturity and confidence. I mean never wanting to see my own image again, because every line, every gesture, every feature and flaw are just to painful to witness.
This is the first reason I am grateful for the wound. It is proof that I am my own, that I am not him.
I could cover it, conceal it, even if it cannot heal, but I don't. I need it to be there. It's not a guilt thing; I don't regret life, but I regret not being there on time. Not being there as he fell. Guess it's a punishment. It screams to the world that with out him, I am maimed, broken, incomplete. I need the wound to proclaim it for me, so I don't have to explain.
They know that the jokes are a mask, the laughter just a shadow of what it once was, what it could have been. But what they don't know is that they are also a curse, a burden I can't lay down because it was once ours and there are so few things left that are.
I hear his voice, even while I'm awake, even when I am not speaking. It echoes perfectly inside the hollow drum.
I miss it. I miss his laughter, his constant mutterings. I miss our jokes, our inventions, our crazy plans for the shop. I miss the things we told each other. the confiding, the trust. But above all else, I miss him. I'd gladly give my other ear, and both my hands and a leg to boot if it would mean anything. I'd give my body, two souls in one space. It wouldn't be so different.
But nothing, not wishing or bartering, not shutting out my shadow, not working into exhaustion, not the relentless passage of time itself, can alter the one simple bitter truth. I am less than half a man. I am broken and my other half is gone.
A/N: Reviews are appreciated!