Unrequited love... often the subject of novels and movies that cause middle-aged women to cry their hearts out, remembering their younger years, perhaps. Many suicides have been committed, many cuts made, and many people never recovered. But those who do... are they stronger?
Ginny, it hurt at first, it hurt more than anything I've ever felt, it was almost more than I could bear. I remember a time when I would do anything for you; I would've gone to the end of the world for you. At first, all I could manage to do was go into the shower and cry. It was the only place where the pain almost felt bitter-sweet, for as soon as a tear emerged, it was washed away and as the warm water beat down on my skin, I almost forgot my pain.
Almost.
Sometimes I wonder why I started loving you in the beginning. Sure, you were as witty and beautiful as ever, but somehow, I got it inside of me that I not only like you, I love you, I would die for you. However, this has even taken a masochistic turn. Sometimes I imagine how I would die for you, how I could prove my love.
Until I remember that you don't want it.
Could you ever? I suppose you could've, but you never did and never will. Our friendship is hard to describe now... you are amazing, as ever, and we interact in the same way. But somehow, it's different.
All the songs I listen to you remind me of you. This is because, at a time long ago, I dedicated each and every one to you in some way. One might describe how I love you, another how I feel about you, and yet another, how you might feel about me.
Might. It was almost fun to fantasize about you when it was a might.
Now it's just sad… unless I'm drunk. When you had asked me why I sometimes do it, I answered you with a simple "because I like it". It's because of you, Ginny. I am free only when the pain is numbed, and I haven't learned how to do this by myself just yet.
Have you ever felt so taken by a song that reminds you of someone so much that you feel overwhelmed? I have this all the time. When I remember my love for you, how it used to be, before I forcefully stifled it inside a little box within me that can only be opened by reminders, it overpowers me. So strong...so passionate... I lean against a wall and slide down, feeling tears start to emerge from my eyes. Sometimes I fall back onto my bed, curling into a little ball, trying to make myself disappear from this unseen cause that is affecting me so.
Ginny, how I wish you loved me back, what if, what if, what if... When I study, when I write anything, it is dedicated to you. Somehow, when I am writing another potions essay of ridiculous criteria, I think of you, and imagine if you had asked me to write this for you as a favor. And of course, seeming as how I would do anything for you and would even die for you, it seems like such a small task.
You are my muse, my inspiration, my love.
Now and forever.