Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and possibly Hermione, but I'm not going to be the one to get between those two.
**RTDU**
Entry 9: 17th September, 1999
I am interrupted in my confusion by moments of certain love; welcome for their kind solidity and yet cursed for the pain they bring me. Yes I do love Ronald, and yet that love as strong as it may be, is not for one of equal bondage. I feel for Ronald as I would for a growing sibling, lesser and needing observation and praise whenever positive outcomes are achieved. It shifts and twirls like some teasing dancer and yet I, for all my introspection, can't grasp it. I want to take that feeling and make it grow, make it stronger, make it of romance. But day after day, night after night, I am foiled by my own mistakes, my emotional hubris.
It is not as if the steady rain outside my window will patter louder simply for my wanting it. It is not as though I can fall in love with Quidditch simply because Ronald receives so much joy from it. I can not force myself to feel a particular sensation for a person, especially not one whom I have been around for so long. The feelings have developed as they have and there is little to be done about it.
What brings this about? Well I slipped up today when talking to Harry. I've written before that I specifically don't mention our relationship issues to Harry since I don't want to either drag him in to it or make him feel badly about his friend. Well Harry was talking about his godson Teddy Lupin and how he was rather feline in his desire for human contact. He either wants you to hold and hug him right now, or back the heck off and let him play with his toys. I slipped up then, not even realizing it until it was too late. I said that it reminded me of Ronald when he was done wanting… and I cut off. But I only did that because I had seen Harry stiffen and he did that thing where his eyes go hard and bright. I don't really know how he does it, but I've always had trouble not telling him what he wants when he does that. Its like the opposite of puppy dog eyes, where i just can't not do what he wants.
His voice got quiet and he asked if I was alright. So of course Ms. Stoicism here started bawling her eyes out in the middle of the damn dining hall at work. The worst part is that Harry didn't even give me the chance to run off, which I was absolutely about to do. Nope, instead he got up first and gave me a hug and asked if we might prefer dining on fresh air and a nice walk.
Well that offer didn't help in itself, but thankfully once we were outside walking i got my wits back together and managed not to tell him anything. But I think it might be too late, he's got that look now that means he knows I'm full of it.
He didn't even look uncomfortable when I started crying in front of all those people. In fact he looked more than used to it. Is everything alright with him and Ginny? I know he doesn't want to settle down with her just yet, but if he's that used to crying witches at this point that he knows what to do, then perhaps there is more trouble in paradise than I thought.
Well isn't that the cat calling the kettle black.
The prat didn't even pester me though, he just walked with me and asked how Crookshanks is doing and talked about Teddy and his work. Not in the self-centered way, no, but to give me time to gather myself. Why is he so good at this? It isn't fair and it is so not helping my feelings towards him. I know I can't just wish those away, no more than I can wish stronger feelings for Ronald in to being, but still. It would be so much easier to deal with Ronald if I wasn't already seeing what I did wrong with Harry.
I even tried to consider if I am over emphasizing Harry's positive qualities because of my marital issues. I even made a freaking pros and cons list for heaven's sake. And a venn diagram. And a chart. And, oh who cares. The point is that yes while i am adding extra feeling towards Harry, it is also due to the recent realization that I've really always felt this way towards him. He's the unconditional love in the children of my dreams; the curly black hair, the radiant green eyes, the adorable grin. He's the comfort I feel when that presence exists in my dreams, letting me know I am home. He's the excitement I feel when hurrying up the walk of my dreamscape, eager to see him just inside the front door. He's the mystery that has plagued my dreams and I've only just realized it. That calm serenity, that absolute determination to care for, that's what I recognized.
I had thought that those uncertain presences in my dreams were Ronald, just hiding or just not fully visible to me. But the feelings.
Those feelings are too real, too tangible, too honest, to be about anyone other than Harry.
So now what?
I feel lost in certainty and I just want this rain to grow stronger so I can hear nothing but. I want thunder, something that makes me shiver in my bed aside from the physical pleasures or the emotional torment. I want something other than uncertainty.
I just want to understand. I don't think it is all too much to ask. For a bibliophile such as myself, not understanding is just about the most damaging place I can be put in.
Oh, speaking of Crookshanks, I have to end for now since he seems to be irritated with Ronald's snoring and is slapping him in the face with his tail. How cute, he understands.
For now,
Friendship, bravery, and love.