dear harry [h.s]

day 41

Dear Harry,

I remember all of those nights we spent together. Laying in bed, watching movies. You would hold me close. I felt like I had a home. You were my home. I would run my fingers through your curls. When your lips touched mine, a chill went down my spine. You would whisper seductively in my ear. I would giggle and you would pull me on top of you. The motion of my body against yours was so in sync. We moved together. We weren't just having sex, no. It was more than that. We were making love.

I remember a lot of things now. But one memory I wish I would forget. That night when you came home drunk. You weren't the same. You were angry. You were bleeding and had cuts all over your face. I kept asking you what happened. You told me you got in a fight. I screamed at you for doing that. You grabbed me, and threw me to the ground. You told me to shut up. I know you saw the fear in my eyes. "Are you scared of me? Are you?!" You spat in my face. I cried as you got on top of me, your legs straddling me. You hit me. Hard. Your fist came down on my face. You realized you hurt me. I had a black eye for weeks. You apologized so many times, and I was afraid you were going to hurt me again. But, I finally forgave you. I had to.

I pressed my fingers against my lips. I can still feel the heat of your wet lips on mine. When I took them away, I realized my hand was shaking. I need you.