24Your arms are crossed across your chest and your eyes have turned into a dark, rich emerald green. You've never looked so beautiful as you do now, but I don't tell you that. All I do is stand there, watching your lips as they speak to me. No, as they scream at me.
My head is spinning. Your words echo through my head. I'm speechless; I'm hurt.
I've had too many rejections, too many painful words yelled at me. And you've been doing all the damage. I've reached my limit. It's too much for me to handle. I've had enough.
I wish I could scream, shout, do something! But I can't. My mouth can't move, my vocal chords have seemed to have gone off to a holiday. All I can do is stare at you while you scream at me. While you unknowingly break my heart for the last time.
Why was I late? It's not my fault that you schedule almost every Head's meeting every full moon. You don't listen to me, you just tell me when it is and walk away. You don't let me say anything. You don't know what it is that I do, yet you act it. You're positive I was with Sirius, Remus and Peter planning some new prank. But you don't know what I really do. You'll never know, for it is not my story to tell. You think you know everything, but you don't really. You don't know what's out there. You don't know the horrible things that have been happening. You're ignorant, and sometimes, I wish I was as well.
Fear is slowly crawling everywhere. The war is escalating and people are dissapearing. Dying. We live in death, we bathe in darkness. We need a little bit of light. A little bit of hope. The pranks me and friends pull do that. They bring laughter, they bring joy. They bring hope.
But you don't see that, do you?
You're blind to our intentions. All you see are cruel pranks that only humuliate people. But they aren't cruel. Cruel is what Death Eaters do. What Voldemort does. He's cruel. He's unforgiving. He's a monster.
Did you know my parents died a month ago? They were both Aurors and they fought hard until the very end. I was there. The memory makes my head go haywire, my heart constrict. It was horrible. But you don't know that do you? You still think I'm James Potter, only child that his parents love and that gets everything he wants. Now, I'm James Potter only child that his parents loved.
Funny how a letter changes everything.
My mum, God my mum. I miss her cookies, her smell, the way she'd hug me and everything would be alright. And my dad. His smile; the way he would always make things better. In a moment they were there with me beside me, but the next, they were gone. Gone from this God damned Earth. I'll never see them again and that's something so painful, that I hope not even Snape endures something as harsh as this. But you don't know that do you? So let me ask you, do you have any idea what I go through?
I don't know what to do. I'm trapped, trapped within despair and death. It's everywhere around me, suffocating me. One of my friends is a werewolf, one has been kicked out and disowned by his parents, and the other's mother has been kidnapped by Voldemort. I feel so hopeless. I just wish for one second of peace, one second of happiness. It's all I want, all I wish, all I need. You are the only one that can give it to me. Yet, what do you do? You do the opposite. You add even more hell to my life. But I still want you. I know I'm selfish for wanting you, but I'm sick of all this misery. I love you, and it's something that I haven't told you yet; I know you won't believe it. Because after all, you're ignorant to the real me. Ignorant to the real world.
You're still there, screaming at me. You seem to not see the pain in my eyes. Or maybe you just choose to dismiss it. You choose to be ignorant. I really wish I could hate you as much as you hate me. But I can't. I hate that I love you. I hate that you hate me. But you're ignorant to that too, just like you are about the rest of me.
You only see the outside. You've never really bothered to look in the inside. Not like I have with you.
I wish you saw the real me. The way I look at you. The way I love you. Everybody sees I'm hopelessly in love you Lily Evans. Everybody but you. You, who are so ignorant to everything around you, so ignorant to the fact I love you. So ignorant of the way you hurt me again and again. The way you don't bother to get to know the real me. You give the Slytherins that insult you endlessly a chance. You gave Remus a chance. You gave Peter a chance. Heck, you even gave Sirius a chance. But not me.
And that hurts. So much. It's incredible the way you can break my heart so easily by saying one word. The way you can break my heart with one look. You have so much power over me, that I'm afraid.
I'm afraid of that final blow. The one that will destroy my already battered heart. My heart that is already cracked and torn in many places. My heart that will never be fully restored. The scars that will always be there, for all eternity to represent the scars of battle. A battle of love. These scars that can never be fully healed. Not even by you.
I say something but you don't listen. You won't listen.
Why don't you love me? Why do you hate me? Why can't you see the real me, and not that person you have impression of? That scrawny black-haired kid with glasses that laughed at the joke that his best friend did on yourbest friend. You forgave the boy that did the joke; why don't you forgive me?
You've given people many chances; you've accepted so many people. Everyone, but me.
Maybe we just aren't meant to be. Maybe we are soul mates. But I know one thing for sure, and it's that I love you.
Today, I'm giving up. No more declarations. No more begging. No more knight-in-shining-armour plans to try to get you to fall for me. They haven't worked for years, so why should they start to now?
But I'll still hope, still wish, still pray that maybe some day, you'll love me too.
Author's Note: Yeah, I know sad. Should I continue? Or should I leave it be? Review and tell me what you think please!
Also, I did not steal this. I borrowed the idea from Intricacy's "Worthy". She gave me permission, so please don't insult me, my stories, or say I stole it. Thank you.
Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. Not the story plot, not the characters.