♧
He gave me hope,
something to believe in.
He gave me a meaning,
something I could live in.
It is a bittersweet feeling,
hearing those idiots talking
about what I saw as the
most beautiful and inspiring person.
Hearing their expectations
about the one who brought me laughter and no pain.
Hearing them talk about him,
what Harry could have done to me.
How he could have hurt me,
mentally and fysically.
The way he pushed me into things.
I hear them talking
all day long and they
never seem to stop.
I want to correct them,
tell them they are worthless
and no one is as wonderful and
magnificant as he was.
It is a punishment thinking
of him when he is not around
and he never will be.
Always around in my mind,
he never leaves it.
I wish he was here with me.
I keep asking myself
what he is doing.
How he stays alive, how he feels,
what he thinks, if he misses me,
if he does not hurt himself.
But I know I will never find the answers.
"Sweetheart,
what do you want to eat?"
I look up from my book I was currently trying to read,
to see my mother entering the living room holding a cup of water for me.
I shrug, not really caring about food.
She frowns and her eyes scan
my face, worry being evident in
her features.
"You have to eat something, darling."
Once again I shrug
and divert my attention to
my book again.
"Come on now sweetheart."
Hearing her say those names all
the times makes me incredibly angry.
He called me those all the timd and he was the only one who
meant it by heart.
He was, and still is, the only one who is allowed to call me those loving words.
"Stop calling me darling,"
I say to her.
Her eyes shoot to my face and once again do I find her frowning.
She lets out a deep sigh and walks towards me, sitting next to me she turns her body so she is in front of me.
"June, what has been
up to you lately?"
She asks, her hands
taking mine in hers.
I look at her with wide eyes and really ask myself if she said that.
"You can't be serious now?
You ask me what has been up to me lately, right now when I am nowhere near happy and I cry myself to sleep every night?"
I ramble to her, my heart drumming loudly in my chest.
"That's a bloody weird
question if you ask me."
"I just don't understand why.
Aren't you happy your back home?"
I exhale very noticable and
look at our hands.
My hair falls in front of my face,
and I am glad it does because tears
are already forming in my eyes.
"You won't understand and
I am not going to tell."
I hear her sighs but
I am nowhere ready to give
her explanations which,
I am afraid I can not give her,
and I do not want to give her.
She looks at me with tears
spilling out of her eyes.
Realising and knowing she lost her only daughter and there is nothing she, nor I, could do or could have done about it.
