Obsession

You are my obsession. You walk into a room, and my eyes automatically find yours. Even with my back turned, I know that you are near. Your presence is intoxicating. With ever fiber of my being I hate you. I spend all my excess time and energy into making you hurt. The look of defeat brings me up, and tears me down.

I know where you are every minute of the day, which classes come first, and what foods you love most. I know every expression that cross your face, except for those of pleasure and happiness. I know that when you smile you don't mean it at all. I know when you fake your good moods, do fake it all the time. When was the last time you felt anything besides pain? When was the last time you felt alive? I know what you dream of at night. They are the same images that haunt my every waking moment; they intensify when you are around. You remind me of that night, that horrible night when I was forced to stand there and watch unbearable and unspeakable things. I put that behind my new mask. All I feel is hate for you. I was once told that there is a fine line between love and hate. Maybe that's true. There is no room for anyone else but you, my dear. You are mine.

You are what fills my head at night when I'm not being chased by the nightmares that we share. The same Dark Lord haunts both, but you wouldn't know that now would you? You are just too self absorbed. That makes me love you more.

Mostly I just pity you. You don't have any friends do you? No one can understand your feelings now, and in that way we are so much alike. Oh, those "friends" of yours will stand by you 'til you die; but tell me, my dearest, at what price to them? When you watch the life drain away from them as you continue to live will you feel relief at not having that burden anymore? "Burden?" you ask. Yes, my dear, that burden of waiting for the next disaster to strike. The burden that will only go away if you are alone in the world. We both expect a short life span; we are both realistic.

That's all you want isn't it? To be left alone to fulfill your life's mission, only to die a slow, painful, lonely death. Well, in knowing what you want, I will make it my mission to see that you fail. You aren't going to get away that easy, Potter. I will stock you to the ends of the earth. I will not let you run away from life. I will not let you run away from me. I will stick around until your dying breath, and I will mourn you when you're gone. You are my obsession. You are my love. You are my life. You will be the one to bring me to my dismal end.