Notes of Sorrow
One half can't make a whole, and that's all I am without you.
It's like there's a hole in my chest that I want to claw at and rip apart until I'm cleanly torn in two, because I'd rather be gone than missing this much of myself.
I stay in my apartment most days because I can't bear the fact the reflection in the shop window shows only me.
And when I do finally get out, I walk on the right side of the pavement leaving a body space next to me just like I'd do if you were walking with me.
When I see something that makes me want to laugh I open my mouth to say a joke that only me and you would understand and I remember…and I don't want to laugh anymore. I don't want to laugh or smile or be happy ever again.
I look in the mirror and I see you. Because I am you. You are me. We are each other.
So why is it that where you are dead I'm still alive?
We did everything together, every adventure we took side by side. Me on your right, you on my left. I'd lean against your shoulder in the rough times but I'm leaning now and where are you?
And I see it in all of our family's faces so I can't go home anymore. They look at me and can only see you. I've been replaced by the stagnant memory of you but it'd all be fine if it meant I could spend time with you but I can't.
I know our differences and the scar on my left cheek that you didn't have shrieks out at me from within the mirror and I want to put my fist through it so I never have to see myself again. Never have to remind myself that it's me that's alive and you that's not.
And in the simplest of terms I don't understand. I was there. I was right there. Why couldn't it take me down too? It's like I'm surrounded in the rubble that we had to pull you out of and where you're freed into another world I'm suffocating here without you.
When I look around all I see is the broken walls and foundations of my life and I can't breathe…I can't even fucking breathe anymore.
And no one has the audacity to say it but I know they're all thinking it; that you'd want me to be happy. You'd want me to fight and pull through, smile and laugh and never forget but move on.
That you'd want me to be as strong as Ginny's being.
Her eyes mirror the pain of mine and when I see her try to smile it hurts more than the picture of your face frozen with your lips pulled around your last laugh.
Her eyes are watery and her smiles weak; but she's there and I'm not. I can't last more than 10 minutes in the place we grew up because everywhere I look it's just another memory that's rushing into me trying to knock me off my feet. There's the cupboard that we hid in when Mum got really mad because we stole Bill's prefect badge. And that's the rusty nail that your jumper always got caught on and I'd leave you tangled for minutes before I undid your knot and ran away, you chasing me only half a second behind.
Nothing I do can make me forget you, even for a moment, and when I look at something and I laugh for a bit - all I can think about is that it sounds so much quieter without yours joining in.
And I don't understand how the hell any part of this is fair or right or real because I'm getting another chance after this war and you died in it.
I wish that it was me that died because you deserve so much better than a death that people will only remember as one of the losses of the war.
And none of this can go on. None of this can survive without you.
The fact that your scent is still locked away in your room is enough for me to break the door down and try to swallow up all the air so I can feel you again.
But I know I never will, I know that you'll always be gone, and every laugh that I emit will not be shared and every spell that I start to create will not be finished. My life will be an unfinished symphony, and I'm falling; falling apart in all the notes of sorrow.
a/n: Getting back into the writing mode. Reviews/critique always welcomed and returned.