I love to look at photographs of him.

No, I'm not some freaky stalker.

I just prefer memories to real life at the moment.

When people look at my photographs they often comment on how boring they are, questioning why the people don't move.

I prefer muggle pictures, because they never change even if the people in them do.

I examine my favorite picture. It used to be in perfect condition, before it became tear-stained, and worn with age. Sleeping with a picture under your pillow or at your side will do that.

I love this picture because it's from fifth year – the longest we ever went without fighting. Mostly because we were so worried about Harry. But in this picture, everything is so simple.

He has his arm around me, and we're sitting by the lake, smiling at each other. You can see Harry in the background, grinning mischievously, with his hands in the shape of a heart between us.

Understandably, I haven't shown Ron this picture. It would raise unwanted questions and awkward situations.

I love this picture because while looking at it, I can pretend that things are different.

I can pretend he hasn't broken my heart 100 times.

I can pretend we're still friends

I can pretend I didn't set a flock of canaries on him

I can pretend that he and I are engaged. Instead of Bill and Fleur

I can pretend he's not downstairs snogging Lavender right now.

I can pretend he hadn't been staring at Fleur since 4th year

I can pretend he doesn't hate me.

I can pretend we're in love.

And I can pretend I'm not crying while I'm writing this. I can pretend nothing has changed between us, and that tomorrow I'll be sitting between him and Harry at breakfast, talking merrily as we hold hands under the table, and Lavender sulks in the background.

Or, if I'm feeling particularly depressed, I can lie in the dark, and pretend I hate him. I can pretend I don't give a damn about him and Lavender. I can pretend I broke his heart, and I cackle maniacally as he begs for mercy, begs me to give him back his heart, because haven't I caused enough pain to him already?

I can look at these pictures of us as friends, and I can pretend I don't feel like I'm drowning with no one to help me, In fact, my life is just perfect. Nope, no knife being stabbed repeatedly into my heart, no sir. No hot bubbling anger is rising inside me as I write this, and my face isn't wet from tears, I was just out in the rain.

But no matter how much I pretend, I'll always awake to the harsh reality.

To being in love with someone who hates me.

To being in love with someone who is currently fused to one Lavender Brown

To being in love with someone who used to be my best friend

To being in love with Ron Weasley.

And hating it.