So This is Love

"So. How does it feel to have your heart broken?" you asked me, just before you walked away and left me in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. At the time I didn't know what to say, so I just said your name.

"Draco."

I called after you. It was soft, but I still think you heard. You paused then and kept going. I felt numb. I had nothing left to say. I climbed through the portrait hole and up to my dorm room. I didn't give any notice to the people calling "Ginny!" as I passed. It didn't matter. I was so numb.

I didn't sleep at all then. That's right, no sleep last night at all. I laid awake and thought of what you'd done to me. Six months, gone nowhere. Six months I gave you my all, and I loved you. You said you loved me as well. Then last night you took it back.

"So. How does it feel to have your heart broken?" you asked me. Well, let me tell you. Not nearly as bad as I thought it would.

It feels like I'm at a funeral, and the casket is getting laid upon a bed of twig and branch. A man lowers the torch, and sets all on fire. Outside, the casket it burns, flames licking the air with orange tongues. The heat is so strong. It feels like our relationship is inside that casket. It feels like I'm just a spectator on the outside. It feels like I'm just watching, and waiting for the fire to die. For the fires outside to finish their reign, so our love will be dead. Our love that was locked away inside, and closed off from the rest of the world.

You wanted to leave me, because you didn't want anybody to know. Well you know what I say? I say "FUCK YOU!"

Tonight at dinner, I will expose you for what you are: a lying sap. You said you loved me. But you broke my heart. I will make sure everyone knows that you loved me, that you love me still. That you only left because we were coming too close to exposing our love.

I may not of known what to say then, but I do know now. I do know now. I will tell you that it doesn't matter to me now, that you were just a six-month fling. That you could never measure up to be a real man. Not like Riddle.

That I first turned to your darkness because of Riddle. I was looking for an alternative. But you weren't good enough.

I told Hermione about all this, you know. She looked at me and said, "The Chinese have a saying. It goes: He who follows too close to tiger, will tread on his tail."

Do the Chinese even know what that means?!

It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Soon they, and you, will know all of it. All of it! I didn't even cry over you. When I got up this morning, I started looking for a new love interest.

I feel as though I could walk up and literally tear your heart out of your chest. That I could take it and eat the muscle, drink the blood, and leave you standing there.

And I won't cry over you.

I'll never cry over you.

Even now, as I sit in the room where we first saw each other as more than enemies. Even now, as I gaze around, and see our favourite corner. It was hidden, so no one could catch us when we were snogging... Or any of the more... Intimate... Things we did.

Even now, as I hear footsteps approach from outside the door. Gods, they sound just like yours did.

Why did they stop?

I see your shadow loom from the open door way. So you came. Even though you said you would never again, you came. Somehow I knew you would.

"Ginny?" I hear your voice say.

"Yes?" Why do I always sound so lame, so helpless, in front of you?

"Why did you come?" Like you really don't know.

"I don't know." Like I really don't either.

You're by my side now. Why do I feel as though I'm going to cry? I mustn't. I mustn't cry over you.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Suddenly the past anger I felt is boiling up.

"But I need to be. I didn't mean it," you trace your cold fingers along my warm cheek, "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Really. It didn't sound like that, Malfoy."

That seemed to have hit you hard. You pull you finger away.

"Please don't be like this."

"Like what? Like someone who just got their heart stepped on? Like someone who thought they loved?"

"NO! Like someone apathetic to an apology. I love you. I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you? I love you..."

"No you don't! You don't even know what love is! I've loved before you, and loved you! But here you talk of love! Love is not fluffy bunnies, and lacy valentines! Love is a suicidal condition of the heart, when love dies, it takes your heart. When your heart dies, so do you. You killed it, Malfoy, you killed it. And you don't even know it. You don't even know what love is!"

Everything I've wanted to say just came out. My tears are falling freely. At least I'm not pouting.

"You really think I don't know what love is? I know what it is! I know how much it hurts! I know I hurt you yesterday, but it hurt me more! I'm so sorry! I want to be there for you, now. I want to be there for you!"

"You said you would always be there for me. But when I looked for you, you were gone! I'm sick of you! I'm sick of all of this. I loved you, but I just can't any more. And I'm NOT sorry."

"Gin, please. Please, don't do this!"

"So. How does it feel to have your heart broken?" I ask as I get up to leave.

"Like it's a funeral," I hear him say. I stop in my tracks. "Like there's a casket being laid upon twig and branch, and the man lowers the torch, and the casket burns. And inside is where our love was. And I'm the man lowering the torch, and it feels like no matter how hard I try, I can't get the love inside the casket to burn again. And I feel like you aren't even trying. Like you're standing by and watching."

I can feel myself falling to the ground. I am sobbing. You wrap your arms around me and say, "Please, Ginny? Please let me love you again?"

Why do you always do this to me?