Never Mine

Never Mine

I can't stand it.

She is dating my boyfriend.

Okay, he's not my boyfriend. He was never my boyfriend. He never showed a lot of interest in being my boyfriend. But he should have been. We got along really well. We flirted and laughed. We were great together.

And now they're great together. Now she talks about how wonderful her boyfriend is. Yeah, he's bloody fantastic, and he's supposed to be mine.

I could avoid them. I could wash my hands of the whole thing. I don't have to see them or hear about them anymore, but I can't help myself. I can't stay away.

He knew. We never actually talked about it, but I know that he knew that I was in love with him. Right from the beginning. Other people knew, and they weren't discrete. Blaise Zabini tried to get some first years in the library to call me Mrs. Malfoy because they didn't know any better. I mean, I was fifteen so they knew I wasn't married, but at least one of them thought that Malfoy was my name.

And when I told them that it wasn't my name, Blaise said, "Give it a few years." I smacked him, but secretly, I was delighted. Because I wanted nothing more than to marry him. I want nothing more. But it's been a few years, and I'm not Mrs. Malfoy.

Because he's dating that tramp, and I can't stand it.

Maybe she's not a tramp. It doesn't help to think of her that way. So she already had a boyfriend when she swooped in and stole mine. (Again, not actually mine.) So she cheated on her boyfriend with Draco. That doesn't make her a slut. People make mistakes.

I think it does help a little bit to think of her as Aslutia. I mean, I'm going to hate her. Even if I ever get over Draco, even if I fall in love and marry someone wonderful, even if she turns out to be a real stand-up girl, I will always hate her. Because, honestly, I'll never get over Draco.

I have been in love with him for ten years, probably longer. And I don't use that word lightly, although I did in the beginning. I didn't love him then. I really, really like him. But I do love him now. Or I did love him, really love him, when he started dating her. Now,... I don't know.

I've tried to move on. It's been two years. And he chose her. I was there, and he knew I was available, and he went out with her. So in my mind, I know that's it. It's not going to happen for us. He doesn't love me. I know that in my mind.

Something deeper, though, even deeper than my heart, somewhere down in the depth my soul, I believe that if she was just out of the picture, we could have a chance again. I'm only just now admitting to my brain that I've been waiting this whole time for them to break up, so that I could finally get my turn. Because we were perfect for each other. How did he not see that?

Have I mentioned yet that I can't stand it? They're moving in together. That's what made me finally admit all this to myself. That's what makes it so hard. Because that is one more brick that she has put down in the foundation that is their relationship. Every day that goes past, every milestone they reach, she's just that much more firmly implanted in his life. I thought she was going to be a fling. I thought she'd cheat again, and then she'd be gone. But I guess she hasn't cheated. Believe me, if I had any reason to think that she had, I'd be screaming it from the rooftops.

I wonder what she thinks of me, if she thinks of me. I wonder if she ever saw me as a threat. I want to think so. She was never very nice to me. I want to believe it's because of that. Or at least, that it's because she's a bitch. The bitch who stole the guy who should be my boyfriend. Except she was never really mean to me either, just a little cool. I don't really think she a bitch. No more than usual, anyway.

That was actually physically painful for me to admit. In the stomach area. Or maybe it's my soul again.

Draco and I aren't even friends anymore. It's my fault really. I criticized her. Actually I defended someone who criticized her by saying that I understood where that person was coming from. That's probably worse than just expressing concerns of my own, because it made it seem like I was talking about her behind her back. Which, yes, I was. And now we're not friends. If they ever do break up, I won't be there to pick up the pieces and to get my chance with him, because we don't talk anymore.

I'm still friends with her sister though. Good old Daphne. She keeps me informed on every aspect of their relationship, but only when I ask. Sometimes I go months, four or five, without asking. Sometimes I don't make it two weeks. Like I said, I can't stay away.

The worst part of all this is that I'll never know. We never talked about it. There is a possibility, no matter how slight, that he didn't realize how I felt. Maybe he thought I'd moved on, or only thought of him as a friend now. And I'll never know because I can't ask him now. Maybe if I'd made the first move, like she did, he would have accepted, and maybe it could have been me moving in with him. I'll never know. Maybe we could have lived happily ever after if things had been just a little bit different. And by that, I mean if I had done things just a little bit differently.

I'll never know.

I can't stand it.

END