Unsent Letters-Deamus

To My Dearly Beloved, Seamus,

To my dearly beloved, Seamus,

Before I start with all of the mushy stuff that seems to be my specialty, I decided to start every letter with a different phrase. Unfortunately, I don't remember the majority of letter starters. I thought this one would humor you though. I still miss you. I don't think I am going to stop missing you until I am there at Hogwarts and we are both safe. It sounds foolish, but I have no idea who I am right now. I mean, I know my name, but deep inside, like, you know, who I am inside? Am I making sense? Probably not. I guess, what I am trying to say is that, when I was with you I always understood who I was, always understood what I was feeling (well most of the time) but now, I don't know, I just don't know anymore. I am still not making any sense, am I? Well, I have no idea how to explain it. It's so clear in my head and when I try to put it in writing it comes out all garbled and makes no sense. I guess I am still being confusing, right? Well, I don't know how to make it make sense. Anyways, basically, what I am trying to say is, I guess I am a mess without you. Wow. That is hard to admit. Oddly enough, I never really thought of it like that while I was trying to run through what I should write. Now I think I am just saying everything that comes to mind. Sea (pronounced Shay) I miss you. I know, it's getting redundant but that is because that's the truth. The truth is what I am thinking of before I manage to fall asleep is you. My best friend. How much I miss you is what is keeping me awake at night. Ugh. I am going to go insane. All I want is to be able to send you one of these letters and get a letter back. I want to be able to see your face and tell you how amazing of a friend you are. And I might not. If I get caught, I don't think anyone will show me mercy. I might not ever be able to tell you how amazing a friend you are, but if I don't make it at least you will be able to read these even if you have no idea what I am trying to say. Ugh. Why is everything so stupid right now? I just...I...I guess I don't really know what I am trying to say. The only thing that seems to come to mind all of the time is how much I miss you, which I have already said so many times. If I don't make it, promise you'll keep going without me? Promise me that you won't forget what you have going for you. That you will keep going and that you won't give up, no matter what. I need to know that you will. That's what will keep me sane. Knowing that when you get these letters that I hope it will make you feel better. That if I don't make it you will read this and promise me that everything is going to be alright. But I hope that it doesn't come to that. I hope that I will see you again and that you will help me untangle all these knots in my mind. But I hope that if I see you I still will give you the letters. Or maybe I will do an 'If you are reading these letters it means that I am dead' kind of thing, not that I think you would need that kind of thing. I mean, we're just close friends. Really close, but friends nonetheless. I have no idea what I will do if you die. I mean, I never really thought about it before now. I just always assumed we would stay best friends forever (I know, cliche right?), marry girls who are really close, and stay friends and live as neighbors or in the same house. That I would be able to show you all of the muggle things that you are missing out on. I guess, everything is just so much different now. Do you ever wish that you could do something like, visit us as first years? When everything was so much less complicated. When we didn't fear for each other's lives everyday (I don't know if you worry for my life everyday but I sure do yours). When we were just two great friends, one with a knack for exploding things. But, we are so much now. Brave. We're going through hell right now, and all I want is to see you again and see you smile. Hear you laugh. And I might not ever be able to do that and it just...breaks my heart. It hurts so bad to think that there is a chance I will never see you again. I want to go visit 11-year-old you. 11-year-old me. I want to talk to them. Tell you that you grow into an amazing, brave person. That you are a loyal friend and have stuck by my side through thick and thin. I would also want to warn them about things. Pain. The basilisk. Stuff like that. I don't really know what I am saying again. Well, anyways, I miss you and hope that we can see each other some time soon.

With much love,

Dean Thomas