♧
It is sad to know we are
done for good.
But looking back at our history,
that small amount of time,
I have got a lot of
enchanting memories.
The word 'happy' loses
its meaning when
we are separated and so
I am sure I will never find it back.
Every human walks
around with a certain kind
of sadness,
but mine is the one that destroys all.
It may not look like it,
but it is there if you look deep enough into my eyes.
I am so lost in sadness
and missing the person who
I have grown to love.
My sadness has become an
addiction; when I am not sad
I feel lost.
It is my own weakness,
my own pain and I make
me isolate myself from everyone.
Long time I have been on my own,
but now I am really alone.
Now I know how it feels when
you are in love and loved.
Now I know what I miss.
It is hard waiting for something
to happen that I know might never happen, but it is even harder
to give up hoping when I know
he is all I want.
I cry and sleep.
I look outside and grief.
I punish myself and think.
I hate myself and love him.
My heart breaks when I think of which state he could be in now in.
All the damage he could do to his beautiful self.
It needs to change,
the situation is becoming worse and worse and worse and worse.
My mother is finally silent, but
the calm before the storm is passing.
Tonight they will be here again.
Questioning everything that could make me doubt him, that can make me break and tell the truth.
They should know by now,
I would never.
Idiots.
My stained cheeks are
drying and I want to destroy
everything against us.
Holding his ring in my hand
I am standing near the water.
Deserted and located in the middle of nowhere I let myself be free.
I see myself, visualised by the surface of clear blue water.
A horrible and broken appearance staring back at me.
Holding the ring she thought would be her one and only treasure.
And it is.
To be sure no one can track the thing back to my mad Harry,
I decided to hide the ring.
Letting it be embraced by water.
Hiding it deep down on the surface of earth, floating around and reaching the other side of the world.
I stretch my arm,
squeezing my hand holding
the silver thing.
I swing and my hand does not let go.
I can not throw it away, my body and mind protests in every form possible.
"I am sorry, Harry,"
I whisper and it echoes through the woods that surrounds the lake.
The trees whispering and creating a masterpiece of silence after.
With my hand over my still beating heart I walk back home,
preparing myself for the interview that is yet to come.
Once I arrived,
my mother pulls me in for a hug,
I let my arms dangle near my sides.
Not using them to hug back.
"You can do this,
it is for your own good sweetheart."
Breaking out of the embrace,
I inhale and with big steps I arrive in the once comforing living room.
