𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 | Draco Malfoy

46 | how do I love again?

DRACO
_________________________

Fate wasn't usually on my side. Not until I entered a bookstore on a cold Friday morning and met the love of my life. The girl that taught me what love existed out of, the girl that healed whatever was damaged inside of me and beautified my scars with love.

She was life. She was heaven. She was my coffee on a drowsy morning and my light in a dark hallway. She was the wish I never knew I was making. I'd always believed that love was torture— any type of love was just another form of pain and sacrifice, and therefore I refused to ever let myself get carried away in it.

Until her.

Now after her, there's no poetic way to describe what I'm feeling. This is hell. This is the absolute depth of despair. I don't feel alive anymore.

If someone, anyone could just tell me what has happened, why she's left me, I might be able to mend things. But I'm clueless. No one speaks to me, no one but my mind. It is a dark and cold feeling to lose everything in just a couple of hours without knowing why. Funny how time works like that.

I knew we'd fought, I remember why I went mad. But it wasn't just anger, it looked like it, but now that I think about it I've come to realize that I'm not angry when I realize what happened. I was disappointed, and filled with sorrow. I was absolutely terrified of losing her.

Then why did I lose her?

I am able to think clearly now that I'm sober. I've been drinking ever since she left me six days ago. Now that my brain works normally again, all I do is wonder what I'd said or did to make her leave. I told her I would just go out to calm down. I wanted to have a normal conversation with her.

She'd made a mistake and I knew she felt terrible about it. She was ashamed of herself. I saw it in her mind and I was going to forgive her— I wanted to start again, to make her promise that it wasn't what I thought it was. That we'd be alright again.

I just want to talk to her. I've given her time and space to think, but she hasn't been responding to my letters either. I don't think she ever even opened them. There was no other way for me to contact her. She seemed terrified last time she saw me, and it absolutely tore me apart. What'd I do?

I lie in bed with my eyes torn open by shame. If I even dare to close them for too long, loneliness embraces me like a blanket and I am forced to not only hear her cry, but also to see the frightened look on her face from when I stopped by her hotel room.

Questions upon questions wander around in my mind and haunt me when the sun goes down and I am forced to sleep because of my tiredness. I never told her about my nightmares, but now that she's no longer here I have no arms to crawl into without telling someone why I need to be held. She never asked. And I admired that about her.

She was my rock, but now that she's left I'm drowning in the waves of my own sorrow. There's no land near, because we were supposed to build that together. We were supposed to help each other out of that ocean of sorrow and learn to swim with each other. But I'm no longer capable of finding any will to swim anymore.

Perhaps this is indeed a punishment for all that I've done in my life. I haven't always been good, but Lord knows I tried my best for her. I've never counted myself as a believer, but I'd wish on shooting stars, throw penny's into wells and cry out to the universe if all of that meant that she'd even just consider talking to me once. Just once.