You Save Me

You are my escape. Save me from

This hellish devil

Who cannot even be considered

A man.

He entered my mind;

Left me

With no one. Except you.

Only you can make me complete.

I desire you

Alone. Help me out of my misery and grief.

He is eating me alive.

Only love can save me now.

Marry me, and make me happy.

I love your ruby hair...

your fiery temper... I hate that I never verbalized

my feelings for you.

I never realized that you were the one.

The one that I could love and care for, tell you everything.

I should have realized your feelings for me

That night in the Chamber.

But I'm afraid that you have no more feelings for me.

Tell me that you do. I compel you to reassure.

What hell I have gone through to come to this conclusion.

My mind was blurred by the dream with the door.

I was blinded by that monster, that spirit.

Even now he haunts me in my sleep.

Hold me; I beg of you. Return my feelings.

I knew you used to love me. What happened to that love?

Was it just a school girl crush,

Or was it real, mature, passionate love?

Your love will save me from the crevices

Of darkness in my mind that he hides in.

Our mental bond would be strong enough,

I can read you like a book.

What force compelled me to write this letter?

I suppose it was pure travesty. I cannot live

Without three people:

You, first and most important of all,

Your brother, my first friend,

And my other friend, the closest a girl had ever gotten to me.

I think of how much I fear your laughter

If I actually sent this letter. But then again

I cannot think of you being that cruel.

I know that your brother would be mad

And protective of you if I actually sent this.

You are his only sister, after all.

I know how much this must be unnerving.

I know it is sudden. I have never expressed

My feelings for you; I liked Cho first.

I took you for granted. You were like a little sister

To me, too-- always there when I looked around.

I can't believe it took me so long to notice

The beautiful young woman you have grown

Into.

Where is the shy little Ginny that begged

To come on the Hogwarts Express

When she found out who I was?

It tears me up inside to know that you might not

Return my feelings.

Clearly, you did in your second year.

I remember that funny Valentine.

It was and still is my favorite one ever.

I didn't realize it then, but I think that bit

Was the best piece of poetry I ever heard.

It may not have been complex.

It may not have been "deep".

But it was perfect. Perfect.

The sense of that word is so hard to understand.

What is perfect really? Someone is coming now.

I'm going to hide this so no one will think I'm crazy.

Especially you.

This letter I will never send...

***

"Ginny, what are you doing?"

Oh God, Hermione's coming. What will she think when she sees me so distracted? I was just thinking, but I can't very well tell her it's homework--she knows me too well. This is really personal, and no one knows the real me, I thought. I stood up and looked her in the eye.
"Oh, just reading something over. Something I wrote--just something I jotted down off the top of my head. I think I'm going to start a journal," I said.

"That would be a good thing for you... considering, well... everything. Do you want one for Christmas?"

"Absolutely. That would be a great idea, Hermione!" I tried to sound enthusiastic, knowing that she probably saw right through me.

"You know what? I think I'll buy one for you as an early Christmas present."

"But it's only October," I replied.

"Yes, but we have our first Hogsmeade weekend this week, and I think you could use this diary--sorry, journal--better now rather than Christmas. I know you, and you bottle up your emotions. This will help you to express those that you feel you can't share with your brother and I."

"Well, I guess that is true. There are some things that are hard to share with you two. Thank you in advance. This is why you're my best friend, Hermione--the closest thing I have to a sister."
"Oh. It's just what friends do, I guess."

***

October 7^th

Great. Hermione gets me this brand new journal, and I can't think of a single damn thing to write in it. I suppose that I could write about my feelings for Ginny, but I know that won't get me anywhere. I just looked back at that letter I wrote for her. Wow. It's really long; I can't imagine how Ron would react if he found it. Thank God this journal has a lock (that needs a password) and a pocket for little trinkets and letters. Maybe I could figure out a way for the words to transfer from the paper to here. This is easier than I thought. No restrictions, no one to yell at me if I scratch out something.

Later, October 7^th

Dinner came and went, but not without the usual me-making-a-fool-of-myself. I've recently got a lot more nervous around Harry. Well, anyone could expect that--actually, no one would. No one knows that I truly love him. He was stubborn last year when he didn't want me to come to the Department of Mysteries, but that's what I love about him. He stood strong, even when he was hurt. It wasn't until I was sitting in the Burrow a month later that I realized how much that meant to me. I knew who stood by me. They helped me in the face of death--in front of the most feared wizard in the whole world. What could I possibly have said to those who were at the Grimmauld Place when I got there later that summer? That I appreciated what they did for me? Words could not, and still can't express what happened to me after that day. I went into a serious depression. No one could talk to me, and even when they did, I had an impenetrable wall wrapped around me; no one could tell what I was feeling. I couldn't even confront my friends. The little sister couldn't--can't--even talk to her own friends about something that happened right before their eyes. They were there! Why can't I tell them? I guess I could write a letter, but my letter-writing skills aren't that great.

October 10^th

I've gotten better at controlling myself around Harry, but I think he noticed the difference in my behavior. What should I do? Gosh, I feel like I'm writing to one of those Muggle women in the newspaper who answer silly questions about love. There probably are witches who do that too, but I only know about the Muggle ones because Hermione showed me one, and she always laughed at the women who wrote to them. Oh no... my eyelids are drooping...sleep beckons.

October 12^th

Harry came up and talked to me today. I got so nervous that my palms started to sweat. It is too late to write more if I want to get at least some sleep tonight... I'll get up a little early and finish tomorrow.