Pieces of my life are sectioned out to the side of me. A lifetime of memories clustered into items you carry through your day to day mundane. Things you could easily throw out and buy newer up to date versions of, like that new game console in a year or so. Things that make this life easier for me, things that make me feel something in a world that lacks the insight that is hollow. I feel nothing here, laying in the bed of another lover, a blissful smile forming to her lips, yet nothing is on my face but the sweat and cum I drank down last night. It's been like this for a few years now, nothing inside but the lustful side effects of a nightly amusement.
I can recall every moment of my past that I felt something in, yet even in memories of death and love and joy I feel nothing. Nothing until she stepped into my life, now it's a hollow distant thud of the pain coursing through my veins at break neck speeds. I feel the hooks and chains and whips and fists as they lash out and tighten around my hung body in this hellish mind. I see the things that torture me so; they lurk in the shadows of laughter filled rooms, of the moments that take your breath away. I know they exist in reality too, but the ones within my wounds see only the light of my distant memories of sunshine and happiness. Nothing of the day or the beauty the world offers to those that have but to want it. But that's not true now is it? I wanted it, I longed and pined for those feelings, I yearned with the very molecules of my being for that beauty; that beauty just didn't want me back.
I remember when I came to this realization, I was looking at her face in the coffee house, thinking about how her skin would feel under mine; she was all too knowing about desires, and lust, but lacking in the flame I held, the love I burned for her. I could see the faces of the notches as they fell into bed with her, or into the car seat or side of the building, where they fell for her charm did not matter; only that I saw every blissful moment of their climax and inevitable orgasm. Yet I still yearned for the beauty of this life with her, the longing looks and pleasant hands touching, memorizing as they made their way across expanses of milky flesh.
As time wore on and on, with more and more blissful faces falling into her passion, I slowly broke away into nothingness. Into a hollow body with nothing but the pages of the books I've read in my mind to hold me to this planet. Vivid sights of her kissing, licking, and fucking yet another and another fills my pages and leaves me without the ability to possess emotion.
Inwardly laughing I remember the face of my husband when he found me in bed with a Fleur lookalike, he must have known then why we couldn't have sex, why I was always getting headaches on the rare occasion he tried for sex. Why I spent a lot of late hours at work, or out at my mothers. Yeah my friends thought we were just the perfect little couple, hell he even told Harry our biggest problem was too much sex. He looked relieved that it wasn't him, and that he didn't have to hide his affections thinking he'd hurt me. He had this silly idea that he would lose my friendship if he were gay because I loved him, and had since Hogwarts, as if; I didn't even like the guy then as more than an annoyance. He did kind of grow on me though; I mean I did cry on his shoulder about why I did what I did to him, and how I was ok with us ending because one of us should at least have happiness in their life.
So that is what has become of me. A pathetic ex-wife, lesbian, who can't have love and cries on her gay ex-husband's shoulder about her fantasies and why they'll never come true. A dreamer, with no romantic hope left in her body. It's like being soulless, a shell roaming the world one conquest at a time never really seeing the world around me. Which brings me to tonight and the girl beside me, I've decided this is the night I'll disappear from the grid, and this lovely Muggle is the key to this ancient spell. She comes from a completely magicless line, and this is actually rare to find, there will never be magic in her descendants, and this night of sex has sealed that my magic is untraceable, as long as it's wandless… or I steal a wand. Now to be off and looking for something that I'll never find. Or maybe I will, I am a very determined lady, and they don't say I'm bright for nothing. Ironic that I'm off to find an artifact that may or may not exist and may or may not be able to be found, too bad the person over that department is who I'm trying to avoid at this current moment.
