Love is. . .
By: Funnykido
Ch. 1: Love is bittersweet
Ron,
This is the fifty-third letter I have written to you, late at night when the self-doubt and loneliness become too hard to bear. The fifty third letter that you will never see, because soon after I finish it, I will read it, all the while crying so much that my tears will pour down on the parchment making the letters and words will be barely recognizable. Then I will burn it. Throw it into the fire, and watch it curl up and the ashes float up the chimney into the wind, to be carried across the earth.
6 years ago approximately, I met a stumbling, bumbling, awkward red-headed boy. He thought I was a know it all, and needed to "get my priorities in check." He helped me. He showed me how to loosen up, how to have a good time. Most of all, he was my friend. No questions, no conditions, just unconditional friendship. Which he has continued today. Friendship. It's his eternal promise to me, to be my friend forever, and always be there for me. But not in the way I would like.
I sometimes detest ever meeting you. I wonder, if I had never befriended you, would I have survived that troll? Would I be as happy with other friends as happy as I am now with you, despite knowing you will never feel for me the way I feel for you? I sometimes despise your friendship. I look upon it as if it is something evil. I want to push you up against a wall and snog your brains out. If only for one second, until you push me off of you. But that one second, I would cherish for the rest of my life.
That one second, in which I would feel your lips on mine, I would remember it in the middle of the night when I am lying in bed alone, thinking back to you. Feeling sorry for myself, and wishing with all of my being that you had felt even a fraction of what I felt for you.
But I see you admiring other girls in the hallway. Girls with long legs and big chests. Girls who aren't afraid to show off what they've got. Girls who don't spend the majority of their time pestering people to study and sticking their noses in books. I hear you and Harry talking about other girls, and wishing I was anywhere but there, so I wouldn't have to hear you. So I wouldn't have to be reminded of how much I wish it was me you were talking about. Me that you watched. Me that you were too afraid to go up and talk to.
I would give anything to be one of those girls. For I love you with all my heart. Now and forever you will be in my heart. You will be my heart. You are my love.
A/N: OK, tell me how you like it! Reviews much appreciated!