I Miss You, Tom

I Miss You, Tom

I miss him, you know. He always made me feel safe, loved, wanted, acknowledged. It's kind of funny, only not. No one ever asked me what it was like. No one ever wanted to know just how willing I was. I suppose that was to be expected. They'd be horrified if it wasn't all his fault.

He never had to drag me down there. He asked. Granted, I didn't know what he was doing, but I went. I had so much trust in him.

I think that's what did it. No one had ever put so much of themselves into him. He really was the kind and caring boy I thought him to be in the beginning.

Something twisted him. I don't remember exactly when it happened. I can't pinpoint it to one entry or another, but something must've triggered it. That's when the blank spots started. Times I wouldn't know what was going on.

I tried to throw it away.

It came back.

His eye haunted me. They were such a dark blue it was hard to remember the color later. They were so passionate. I should've known how passionately he loved. I did know how passionately he hated. I just didn't see.

Even now, when I want nothing to do with him, the shadows creep up to me, and I see again his dark eyes, the full mouth tilting into an amused smirk. His hair always fell so attractively into his eyes.

I loved him, I did. He loved me too, told me all the time. I believed him. I still do. He told me right before I lost consciousness, and I saw, through the insanity and hatred, the love, the boy that had once been.

I know I was smiling.

He rescued me. So many times, from the cruel words of the Slytherins, from the loneliness of my dormitory. I always told him how left out I was. He talked to me.

He told me all about himself, his life, everything he felt. We talked for hours on end, and sometimes he'd show his favorite memories.

I knew it was wrong, not only because he was so much older than I, but because I knew, before he intended me to know, what he was doing.

That's why these demons follow me. I knew, far before anyone else, what was going on, and because I loved him so much, I never said a thing.

I miss him still, when I close my eyes. I remember him as he was.

Maybe one day I'll face him as he is now, and I'll tell him how much I loved him. Tell him about all the times we spent together. Tell him his own deepest secrets.

The power he held over me was so strong, I could almost feel it. It bound me to him. I would do anything for him and that's what scares me the most. Not the fact that I loved a Slytherin, a murderer, a criminal. That I would die for him, if he asked it.

But he's gone now. He no longer holds me in his thrall, but there are times I wish he did. I want to talk to him, now more than ever.

I can't.

I could never tell anyone else how I feel. There are my demons, not the kind that have horns and creep up form under your bed, but the kind that latch onto you, that are there everywhere you go.

They are the demons no one can see.

There was only one person who could chase away those demons.

Oh, Tom, I miss you.