Tired of Living

A cold February wind whipped his white blond hair from his face, and blew his black cloak around his legs. Dried leaves rustled about his feet, and the clouds overhead enveloped his world in its gray light. He stared at the gravestone, feeling exhausted and empty. His mother lay in that freshly dug grave, the woman who had loved him all his life. Sometimes it seemed she was the only one. He came to that cemetery everyday, lay roses on her grave, and stood by her side until the priest from the church came and made sure he was alright. He would smile weakly and tell him yes, he was fine. Then he would walk through the gate and back into Hogsmeade village. He would go back to the castle, back to just more pain. He would go back to regretting.

She forgave him and that made him hurt worse. He had no right to be forgiven. By rights they never should have been together. But if things were right then they wouldn't be apart. He hated waking up in the mornings. He sometimes hoped it had all been a dream, and that she didn't exist. But he was also terrified it hadn't happened. He was so afraid that she had never loved him, that she had never really been there. But it didn't happen that way. She did exist, and she had loved him, loved him with everything she had. But he had just hurt her. He was tired of hurting people. He was tired of having the people he loved slip slowly away. He was tired of loving.

It should have killed her instantly. Having him saying what he said, having her heart broken, it should have put her six feet down immediately. But it hadn't. It should have. She knew it would have been better than trying to breathe again. Sometimes she found herself gasping for air. She hadn't been breathing, it hurt too bad to know she was still alive. But she woke up everyday, and she saw him everyday, and she loved him everyday. Her heart broke everyday. But she didn't cry anymore. She didn't have any tears left. Maybe she would become stronger if she didn't cry over him, but it just made her wonder. What if she wasn't capable of loving anyone else? What if she never got over him? It haunted her. There had once been a happy person within her, but whenever she tried to find that person, she felt her life becoming un-salvageable, and gave up. She just wanted to give up everything. She realized how hopeless it was, tearing herself up over a boy who would never come back. She was terrified that her heart wouldn't mend, and she couldn't move on. But what scared her even more was that she didn't want to. She was tired of breathing.

"Ginny, I need to talk to you." She smiled brightly at him and tucked loose strand of red hair behind her ear.

"Sure, what about?" She couldn't help feeling a little anxious. She wondered why his face was so clouded, so sad. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. He shook his head and took his own hands and removed hers. She looked at him, her face registering confusion.

"We can't do this anymore," he said simply. She arched an eyebrow and frowned.

"What are you talking about?" His heart ached as he watched a shadow of realization cross her beautiful face.

"I don't love you Ginny." He lied through his teeth, hoping maybe she would say she didn't love him either. But he knew that might kill him. But that could be better than this. Her brown eyes welled with tears she didn't mind shedding. She had cried in his presence before, but always on his shoulder.

"Don't say that," she whispered, her voice failing her. A single tear rolled smoothly down her cheek. He wanted to reach out and brush it away, but he knew if he touched her he wouldn't be able to do this.

"It's the truth. This was fun, but we both knew it wasn't going to really become anything," he said, doing his best to manage a smirk. He thought maybe if she hated him it would make it easier to walk away.

"You're just scared." she told him, staring straight into his mysterious gray eyes. It was the truth. He was petrified of being in love. But he had convinced himself this was for the best, that nothing could come of this.

"No, I'm not. There's nothing to be scared of. The truth is that this could never work. I'm a Malfoy, you're a Weasley. That is just the way things are." She felt everything come crashing down around her. Was it possible everything he had ever said to her was a lie? She watched him walk away from everything they had, everything they could have had. He looked back just in time to see her slide down the stone wall and burst into tears. They were both just tired of living.