CHRISTMAS BREAK 1995'

It's almost as if I can hear her pleading for help, and the days just keep getting longer.

I don't mean to be selfish or inconsiderate but I refuse to think anyone can understand my desperation find her. Maybe it's not the healthiest, but I need her more than I need oxygen.

Scratch that.

She is my oxygen.

The others love her, I know that. But me and Ro have always been the closest in way we always thought other humans weren't. What we have is beyond comprehension and incomparable to all. So maybe that's when someone looks at me and says they want her back too, I almost scoff. They love her, but I'd set myself aflame a million times and feel every inch of pain just to have her looking at me again. They need her, but I can physically feel knifes being dragged down my skin when I'm not in her presence. I only know how to exist with her.

Her. her. her. her.

I wish someone understood.

I know Ro would.

Why does the universe keep punishing us? Why can't it let her have a moment to breath? I've watched her survive time and time again, when will she have given enough up?

We're mature but we're all still children. And we deserve to act like it.

Not too long ago we made a vow, that regardless if we were forced to push away from everyone we love, even if we had to run so far away we couldn't find our way back: me and Ro would have a life of our own together.

I miss my supernova. Even when the suns out all I see is a empty gray sky.

Since joining the stupid fucking dark lord or whatever he wants to be called. Wait, why don't I just say the bastard that harms everything? I do appreciate his determination to find her by using his 'followers' but I'm not fooled. If he truly gave two shits, he would've never used that curse on Ro. He's a selfish ignorant bastard and I don't care what his past is, there is never ever going to be one excuse I can find for someone putting my love in pain.

Back to my point, since joining him I have realized something. Not only am I capable of terrible things, but everything I do has a motivator—her. There isn't one line I wouldn't cross in her name.

I

Stupid fucking ink, I spilled it everywhere. God, now all I can think about is how I would change her ink bottles out when they got half empty, knowing a breakdown would happen if they ever went below that.

I wouldn't even be writing in this thing if Whit hadn't drugged me, forcing me to be unable to be at full strength to search.

I do feel bad for Whit, I know he's breaking without her too. Maybe it's selfish of me to think he can't understand because if anyone could, it's him.

I miss the days of us three spending every waking moment together.

I miss it I miss it I miss it I miss it

Where are you love?? What do I have to do to find you?

I see her so much, I'll be in the middle of a stand off and get a flash of dark hair out of the corner of my eye and almost get myself killed because of it. I've been trying to not hallucinate her like I usually do, force myself to be even more distraught so I can be worse than ever to find her—as if I'm not already.

I feel sleep approaching like a horrible storm cloud, and it's making my heart rate pick up. Every time I close my eyes it's just the moments of hearing her screams or seeing her face in pain.

I can feel her, I know it.

I know she alive because if she wasn't, my soul would be split into two.

I WANT HER BACK

and I fucking hate Dumbledore I fucking hate the order I fucking hate her father I fucking hate Walburga I fucking hate the dark lord I fucking hate everyone who hurt her and took her away.

I'm so god damn angry every second.

I keep doing the breathing exercise Whit taught us years ago, hoping they'll help the tightening in my chest but this isn't a panic attack. It's a feeling that stays.

I found that letter she wrote me yesterday, or maybe Draco and Whitman found it and placed it on my desk so I could have something. She talked about a conversation we had, and wrote how it stuck with her unlike anything else.

She once told me it was rotten work to take care of her, and I never disagreed more. It couldn't be, not for me, not when it was her. I understand how those words imprinted on her soul and why she wrote about them, because as she turned around to say the same to me months later, my brain kept it right in the front to constantly remind myself that even if I had nothing I had her.

I miss you baby. And I'm going to find you.

Maybe I could write poetry about her again, but I don't believe it would ever be good enough to encapsulate her.

My eclipse.

My sun.

My moon.

My stars.

My oxygen.

My love.

My best friend.

My world.

My ocean.

My other half.

Rose, Rose, Rose, gods...she is everything, everything and more expanding between time and space. Words on a page would never be enough.

I don't care how many times the knife gets twisted, I'll shove it deeper just to love her. And that I truly believe, is love.

I want to be able to breath again.

I'll do whatever it takes to be powerful enough to keep her safe like I did our whole lives.