Author's note: J.K. Rowling owns the characters and some places, Sheryl Crow owns the song, all I own is the wish that I did! (and the plot) Summary: Ginny is realizing that she doesn't really love Harry.(A/N But I know I do!) It's better than the summary.
Home
 I woke up this morning, and now I understand what it means to give your
love to just one man.

Ginny awoke to Harry's arms around her waist, finally understanding why all of her friends just had one steady boyfriend at a time throughout their school years. Nothing could compare to knowing one person loved you, just you, and no one else. She realized that she didn't need four boyfriends to know how pretty she was, because Harry always thought she was beautiful. Ginny got up and went to the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast.

Afraid of feeling nothing, no bees or butterflies. My head is full of
voices and my house is full of lies.

But was she sure of her feelings for him? Would she wake up one morning, look into his eyes and feel nothing? She didn't want to lose that feeling. There were too many voices in her head, all telling her different things. Had she been lying the whole time, telling him she loved him every morning before he left for work?

This is home. Home. This is home. Home. This is home. I found you standing when I was seventeen. Now I'm thirty-two and I can't
remember what I see in you.

She remembered that day in Diagon Alley. She was shopping for her school supplies. It was going to be her last year at Hogwarts, and her brother and his two best friends had graduated the year before. She had almost given up on trying to get Harry to notice her. Then Ginny saw him, standing in front of the quidditch shop. "Hi Harry," she said softly. "Why are you here?" "Waiting for you." He replied. Ever since that moment they were "an item". She knew somehow that they would be married someday, but he didn't officially ask her until two years after she had graduated, when she was nineteen. They'd been married thirteen years now, and she couldn't remember what she saw in him.

I made a promise, said it every day. Now I'm reading romance novels and
dreamin' of yesterday.

She absentmindedly fingered the ring on the third finger of her left hand, remembering how she had promised to love him forever. She told him that every night before they went to bed, whether they slept or not. Nowadays Harry went straight to sleep and she stayed up and read romance novels, thinking of how much more romantic they'd been when they were younger. She always dreamed that somehow it would be more like the old days when she woke up.

This is Home. Home. This is Home. This is Home. This is Home.
I like to see the Riviera and slow dance underneath the stars.
I like to watch the sun come up in a stranger's arms.

Lately Ginny had gotten into the habit of telling Harry she was going to an important meeting at the Ministry every couple of weeks or so. She'd tell him it was an overnight trip and that she'd be back in a few days. But she never went to the Ministry. She would make herself gorgeous ( not that she needed the makeup she used) and go club-hopping until someone took her to the motel. She still liked being with more than one guy. She just convinced herself otherwise in the early years of her marriage. She hardly ever watched the sun come up with the same guy twice anymore. And she liked it.

This is home. This is home. Home. Home. Home. I'm goin' crazy, a little every day. Everything I wanted is now driving me
away.

She used to dream about being Harry's wife when she was fourteen. In Ginny's dreams they had a big house, a son named Harry Junior, and love. Seven years later she had two out of three after going through a heartbreaking miscarriage. Now she didn't even know why she wanted all of these things back then. She didn't anymore.

I woke this mornin' to the sound of breaking hearts. My mind is full of
questions and it's tearing yours apart. And it's tearing us apart.

Ginny set the table with leaden hands, realizing what all of the things she had just thought meant. She knew what she ripping sound she had heard this morning was. It was hearts breaking. She was thinking like a woman about to file for divorce thinks. She was questioning everything she had been living with the past thirteen years. "And it's tearing us apart." She whispered inaudibly. She yelled at Harry to come get breakfast. When he came down the stairs she said, "We need to talk."