...
I strongly considered making this a private entry. But I have since decided that, frankly, I don't care anymore. And honestly, how many of you are so concerned with the inner workings of Theodore Nott, especially when some of you have just lost housemates?
I have been spending time with her, yes. Every waking moment. And for the first week or so, every sleeping moment. Still, I see her every night in my dreams. Maybe I'm not dreaming. Maybe I haven't slept in weeks.
I am not a stranger to loss. I've lost Daphne time and again, during bouts of my own stupidity. But never like this. I carried her body up to the hospital, and all I could see was my mother. I could see my father spitting on me and leaving and my mother's body lying on the floor next to me. I didn't believe she was dead at first. I touched her face, and her hands. And they were so cold. She'd only been talking minutes before and already, they were cold. I thought.. maybe I could bring her back. I waved that ridiculous child's wand around for hours. I cried. I'd try again, try any bit of Latin that I could remember from my lessons. I only knew a few spells, and certainly not one for resurrection. But I was sure that I could. Because I wanted it so much. And she had loved me. And how could she leave me like that, when she loved me?
Because I'd done something wrong. It was my fault. And I knew it. And I waited for her to come back and smile and tell me she'd hoped I'd learned my lesson. And I would have done every thing she told me to after that. I told her that. I promised her that if she came back I'd never be bad again. But she didn't come back.
And so, when she fell, I didn't think Daphne would get back up. And now she's breathing. She's there. But it's like the past has been erased. I may know it, but does that make it exist? What are we without it? I've been telling her everything. I play our lives through my head every day like they're films. Watching what I did wrong. Wishing I didn't have to tell her that I tossed her into a lake. Or that I thought the bracelet she had made me was stupid and refused to wear it. Or didn't chase after her when I'd hurt her feelings. Or even worse, when I made her cry.
I had to tell her about my mom. I've never talked about it before. Not since the first time I told her, all those years ago. And now... now, that is a part of what I see. That is an interruption in the films running through my mind. That is what I see when I sleep.
I'm tired. And I am trapped in thoughts of death. But in spite of it all, there is this odd glimmer of hope I can find in her eyes. When she smiles, the interruptions fade. And I know that, this time, I learned my lesson. This time, she's coming back.
And I need not make a promise, because my heart has made one for me.
I have been spending time with her, yes. Every waking moment. And for the first week or so, every sleeping moment. Still, I see her every night in my dreams. Maybe I'm not dreaming. Maybe I haven't slept in weeks.
I am not a stranger to loss. I've lost Daphne time and again, during bouts of my own stupidity. But never like this. I carried her body up to the hospital, and all I could see was my mother. I could see my father spitting on me and leaving and my mother's body lying on the floor next to me. I didn't believe she was dead at first. I touched her face, and her hands. And they were so cold. She'd only been talking minutes before and already, they were cold. I thought.. maybe I could bring her back. I waved that ridiculous child's wand around for hours. I cried. I'd try again, try any bit of Latin that I could remember from my lessons. I only knew a few spells, and certainly not one for resurrection. But I was sure that I could. Because I wanted it so much. And she had loved me. And how could she leave me like that, when she loved me?
Because I'd done something wrong. It was my fault. And I knew it. And I waited for her to come back and smile and tell me she'd hoped I'd learned my lesson. And I would have done every thing she told me to after that. I told her that. I promised her that if she came back I'd never be bad again. But she didn't come back.
And so, when she fell, I didn't think Daphne would get back up. And now she's breathing. She's there. But it's like the past has been erased. I may know it, but does that make it exist? What are we without it? I've been telling her everything. I play our lives through my head every day like they're films. Watching what I did wrong. Wishing I didn't have to tell her that I tossed her into a lake. Or that I thought the bracelet she had made me was stupid and refused to wear it. Or didn't chase after her when I'd hurt her feelings. Or even worse, when I made her cry.
I had to tell her about my mom. I've never talked about it before. Not since the first time I told her, all those years ago. And now... now, that is a part of what I see. That is an interruption in the films running through my mind. That is what I see when I sleep.
I'm tired. And I am trapped in thoughts of death. But in spite of it all, there is this odd glimmer of hope I can find in her eyes. When she smiles, the interruptions fade. And I know that, this time, I learned my lesson. This time, she's coming back.
And I need not make a promise, because my heart has made one for me.