Tell Me How You Really Feel

Tell Me How You Really Feel

                                                 Drives Me Crazy

It’s been a while. A lot has changed. It’s been what? A month or two? I should probably update you, I wouldn’t want anyone to commit irrational suicide due to lack of insight on my private life. My secret goddess and I continued our affair after that first kiss. How could we not? Who can really resist Draco Malfoy? She’s beautiful but infuriating. I painfully found out she’s ticklish in just about every single solitary part of her beautifully toned athletic body. Any time I try to touch her, she giggles uncontrollably. Sometimes it’s cute but when a guy is trying to be sweet and caring, and he’s laughed at and once in a while snorted at, it’s a little bit maddening. Take her back for instance. Normally ones back is not very sensitive to the touch, and she has a beautiful back (it sounds weird I know but believe me) and when I try to just touch it, to feel her soft skin under my hands, she busts out in hysterics. What’s a man to do? Or when we’re all hot and bothered and I can’t control my hands all of a sudden out of absolutely nowhere I hear “HAAAAAA” and there’s the moment for you.

Other than her insane fits of laughter at every caress, she’s a wonderful girl. Of course we do more than snog occasionally. Sometimes we fly together, she’s a really superb flyer, or sometimes we study together. Except that usually only helps her, she studies Arithmancy . . . and I study the way her chest rises and falls under her robes with every breath. She’s turned me into a right sensitive bastard I know.

Lately however, we haven’t had much time for each other. Sneaking around is time consuming, and with the up coming . . . events, we really have no spare time. Any extra time is spent doing extra training or even better, actually sleeping. We’ve all pretty much cut out sleeping these days. There just doesn’t seem to be time for it. Or it’s really sad when a good mate walks by and asks you to walk to lunch with them and you reply with an “I haven’t the time to eat, thanks though.” There’s been a lot of that lately. There’s nothing that can be changed, we can’t afford to take time out of our training schedules. The only grace we’ve been given, by special orders, is the amount of homework we get. We are being given little to none by majority of our teachers, thanks to the big man in the crazy robes and the silly hat.

It’s a little startling though, that with all of this happening, with all of the training for such a big thing, my biggest fear is far from death. It’s losing her. Losing her in battle, or losing her because I no longer have the time for her. If it was possible I’d give her all the time in the world . . . but it’s out of my hands.

I guess for now I’ll just let it all drive me crazy.