Tragedy

I woke up this morning and the first thing I saw was a picture of you--smiling your goddamn beautiful smile and waving your goddamn beautiful hand. And I hate you because I'm condemned to what seems like an eternity of life. And I truly believe that life is a tragedy.

We live in a world where the "righteous" individuals who want to make it all better prance around saying that there's hope and that there always was and always will be hope. And, you know, you were one of those "righteous" ones once too, thinking that loyalty and bravery would make all things right and thinking that we might one day all live in harmony--muggles and purebloods and half-bloods... But you learned quickly how wrong you were, didn't you? But still it's funny how you were always loyal and brave any fucking way.

It's also funny because I hated that about you. Loyalty and bravery--you were practically a bloody saint! But it was a whole different story when it was me that you were loyal to and me that you were brave for.

I still remember that night--the night when you became something other than something I liked to do for fun. You said that you belonged to me, and that you wanted to make it through all this shit because maybe when it was all over, it might be different (which I knew meant normal). But, of course, both you and I knew that we were only kidding our fucking selves.

You weren't ever going to get through this shit. You knew that it would follow you until you die, and the sad thing is that it did. You died with the title Savior, like you were a reincarnation of Jesus or something. And I guess you were a sort of savior--you saved me once, didn't you?

But even though we could never be together, like it was something normal, I liked the idea of you belonging to me. I thought it was only right, and why shouldn't I have? Despite everything I've wanted, I've never wanted anything more than you. Even when it was only your body at eleven o' clock every night. But your heart? That was a whole other level of you-ness, and the fact that you were giving it to me almost drove me to wistful fantasies of flying around on your new broom in the starlight and all that other nonsense that normal couples do when they aren't fucking each other.

Anyway, you're probably in heaven right now, if there even is one. It wouldn't be a big surprise if you were, though. You were always so damn innocent despite everything you've seen and everything you've done. You even seemed innocent when you grabbed my crotch. You even seemed innocent when you moaned my name when I sucked yours. And you always seemed to forgive me when I didn't moan your name.

But even if you're somewhere that's beyond me right now, I'd still like to think that you belong to me, and even though I never admitted it to you, I'd like to tell you that I had always belonged to you. So I guess I have to put up with doing this "right instead of easy" crap that you were always trying to explain to me because I really do want to end up with you in the end.

So that just might mean that the bloody "righteous" ones were right when they said that there was hope. I mean, look how you've changed me, you fucking git. If that doesn't prove that hope exists than I don't know what does.

But right now, your stupid picture continues to grin goofily at me, and I can't wait until death--hope for something better than this tragedy.

I hate being away from you, Potter.