4 – And I've lost who I am
Freddie,
I have not written in a while, I'm sorry. No, I'm not, why should I be sorry? You are not reading these stupid letters; are not expecting me to write to you or anything as stupid as that, so… I'm not sorry. I just didn't feel like writing for a while. Didn't feel like doing anything, to be honest. Have been lying in bed wallowing in self-pity for quite some time now. They all left in the past few days, your mourners, one after another, so the house is really quiet right now. Well, it wasn't a roaring party in here in the first place, with everyone being bummed about you being dead and all, but… you know. It's almost eerily quiet now. The family's still here, of course they are, they live here, after all, but the Weasleys are a quiet bunch at the moment. No laughter, still no laughter, can you imagine that, Freddie? The Burrow without laughter feels lifeless, lost. Just like me. I cried when I was looking in the mirror this morning. Not because I saw you in there, as Ginny suspected when she found me bawling my eyes out while brushing my teeth, but because I didn't. I don't look like us anymore; we have never looked like that. I lost us, I lost you, and I lost myself.
Big, huge words, eh? 'I lost myself' – but it's true. You're gone, and I've lost who I am when I lost you. I was ever always "and George" as well as you always were "Fred and" – we were some kind of a unit, you and me. And I think it's very distinctive, the "and"-part. I was "and George" – I was your suffix, your second-in-command, your partner in crime. And you were "Fred and", my prefix, my inspiration, my leader, my partner. I never felt subordinate to you, never, it was just the natural order of things – you were the loud one, the bold one, the brave one. Sure, most people wouldn't have noticed much difference – but that was because they never really bothered to look beyond our "and". No one in this whole world knew you like I did, and no one knew me like you did. And that's why I've lost who I am. Who I was. I don't know who I'll be without you. If… when I get past the worst shock and start readjusting my life, I mean. It feels quite incomprehensible to me that my life will go on, as just my life, not ours. Of course, maybe one day we would have parted ways in some kind of way, like getting married and having children and not living together anymore, but… there was always still time.
It's been 26 nights now that I slept without you in the bed next to mine, Freddie. 26 nights I spent listening to the screaming silence in the room, yearning for your snores and snuffles and laughter. Yeah, you laughed in your sleep, did I ever tell you about that? I can't remember, and it hurts that I can't, I want to remember everything I can about you, about us, and at the same time I long to forget. It gets kind of desperate sometimes, this longing to forget you ever existed, and I'm so damn ashamed that I even think that way, but… sometimes I can't help myself. And then I hate myself for thinking that, and thank everything that's out there that you were here with me, that you were my twin, that we were us. Even if it was only for such a short amount of time. I had you, I had us, I had everything.
Freddie, I hate you. And I love you. More than anything.