I want to hate you
Half as much as I hate myself
And I wish that I was as invisible
As you make me feel.

I know it’s wrong, but I do it anyway.
I know it hurts her, but I force her anyway.

Both these thoughts resound in my shallow conscience, as I pace the well trodden pathway to the lake. Sometimes I question myself, and it drives me mad to be doing it. I feel like my conscience has finally been defeated by my lustful desires.

I have to see her. I know I will go mad if I don’t lay eyes on her, for my mental stability. I recall the things she has given up to be with him, and not with me, and I know that she deserves more.

I steadily pick up my pace. I’ve been watching her for three months now. I’ve seen her with him, everything they do, say, and everything most would be too disgusted to watch, but I remain. I close my eyes momentarily, and I see her face. I imagine my face locked with hers, and I sense her feel, smell…her taste.

I yearn once more to see her, and I can’t even stop to catch breath. I know that if I don’t see her, breath will not help me to survive. I arrive at the spot I now call my own, and I immediately see her. Her auburn hair shines brilliantly in the moonlight, and she looks around anxiously, and I know that she’s looking for him.

I want to hate you
Half as much as I hate myself
And I wish that I was as invisible
As you make me feel.

I know it’s wrong, but I do it anyway.
I know it hurts her, but I force her anyway.

I cannot bare to look, but I cannot look away. I know that she will never accept anything more than a friendship from me, but I cannot let it lie. I have more to give, and I know how to please.

I know she gave up everything to be with him, and I, in turn, can do the same for her. I try a different scheme tonight, and I try to get closer. My desires have become stronger these past few weeks, and I need her touch, her scent, her soul.

She seeks the one she loves, and he walks steadily and calmly towards her, but I can sense the same burning desire as I have in his eyes. I know he gave up nothing to be with her, he told no one for his ‘love,’ and she abides to only him. She has no one but him, and I know she wants nothing more than to be with him.

I feel the sinking feeling in my stomach, because I know she can never be mine. I know that she will never want to be with me when she can be with Draco Malfoy. I know she cares for him too much, but I know she’ll get hurt.

She doesn’t understand what she does to me, and what he’s doing to her. She is enslaved by him, on false pretences of a kiss, to keep her satisfied. For the first time, I decide to give in to my eyes, god knows they deserve rest.

I reside to my common room, and it is deserted. My friends have left to their dormitory, and they don’t know what I know, not even her brother. I look into the mirror and see a worthless wretch look back.

My hair is, if possible, worse than ever, and it’s sticking up from the amount of times I’ve ruffled it up in confusion the past few weeks. My eyes are bloodshot, and they give me a little sympathy because they have laid eyes on her tonight.

I resign to the fireplace, and stare into the burning embers, longing for a sign, but all I see is her. All I feel is her. I’ve long since blocked myself from reality, and my heart’s encased in the gates she so helpfully built around my heart.

Only she has the key. No one could save me now. I have the whole wizarding world on my back, and I know I cannot fail. I can succeed, or die trying. In my mind, I succeed, or try dying.

My options are so limited now, and I don’t think I could get through it if she wasn’t by my side. Just getting through the days is possible because I can occasionally steal a glance. I feel my shallow heart beating through my thinning chest. I have long since lost my appetite for life.

I know I shouldn’t, but I still pity myself. The way I’m wasting my life over a girl, but I know she’s worth it. I pity the way I’ve locked out everyone that was important to me, and that they still stand by me, even though I disregard their best efforts.

Now the burning guilt of self-hatred kicks in, and I know that breathing is just passing the time. If I cannot have her, I don’t know what I will do, and I know I have not got long.

I still feel everybody’s eyes on me as I pace through the corridors of Hogwarts, and their whispers do not cease. I try desperately to understand what I have done to deserve this, and what he has done to deserve Ginny that I haven’t. I have given up my life, and I live for her and her alone.

The only bit of dignity I have is the fact that I know something he doesn’t. I always feel like a child as I quote those words to myself, “I know something you don’t know.” Ginny needs love, more than anyone else does, and Draco showed her none.

I still remain controlled, and I know that I care for her too much. If I loved her, I would have stopped Draco even glancing at her, and I would have ended it, but I know this would only make her hate me more. Now I realise, she cannot be rushed.

As I said, if I loved her, I would do that, but if I was completely, purely, with all my soul desperately in love and infatuated with her, I would do what was right.

I don’t know whether she will ever love me, or if she will ever stop loving Draco, but I love her too dearly to cause her any harm. I’d rather her be with Draco than me, if that was what made her happy.

I scold myself for this outcome I have deduced, as if it’s that simple. I can’t bare to look her in the eye anymore, for fear of what would lies there. I don’t think I would see the captivating, chocolate brown orbs peering nervously back at me anymore. I cannot bare to think what he has done to them.

And as I think about her more, the more anxious I get. I start to wonder, if things went wrong with Draco, would I want to be with her? I couldn’t stand the thought that I was second choice to Draco, whether that was true or not.

I couldn’t bare to taste her, when I knew what lips had been there before me. I thought of her more as a fine piece of art, and I knew I could only observe from a distance, but never allow myself to touch. I couldn’t stand the torment of her, and she now held a place in my heart I knew I could never retrieve, and nothing would be the same again.

I don’t know how desperate I must be to spy on her, and watch her befriend my worst enemy. I couldn’t bare the thought of her being alone though. I was there for her, and I didn’t care how my position must come across.

I start to ponder how hurt she must feel, to be enslaved by Draco, and to have to obey his commands. I see her quake under his fierce embrace, and I rarely see them talk.

I have no idea how she could have any feelings for the excuse of a human being I see waste so many girls in front of me, but I never thought Ginny would succumb to that fate. Love is something I guess I will never understand.

There’s nobody else who stirs my blood like her, who causes me to lose all sense of reality, and consider dying for, in the hope that she’ll realise I loved her all along. I have long since pushed these thoughts from my head; I could never leave her.

I know, though, despite me trying to convince myself otherwise, that if the time came, I’d be the first to give my life for her.

I’ve had girlfriends, yes, but none to rival the way I felt for Ginny. The emotions she extracted from me, without even trying, was enough to show me that, in an eternity of trying, no one would make me feel like I did about her.

I start to realise now the one thing I was truly missing. I had a family now, the Weasleys, and I had friends. Ginny was an object of my passion, lust and desire. There was one thing missing from the equation though.

It was love.

I want to hate you
Half as much as I hate myself
And I wish that I was as invisible
As you make me feel.

I know it’s wrong, but I do it anyway.
I know it hurts her, but I force her anyway.

I cannot bare to be me anymore, as I finally think that I have myself figured out. The irony was unbearable. The one thing I need to defeat Voldemort was the one thing I didn’t have. And it was something I wanted so much, but couldn’t have.

It was curious to me how love had fuelled me all of my life. Now all I have is wasted attention and lust, and I gathered nothing in return.

I suppose I could blame myself, for wanting to find the perfect woman, for that’s all she appeared to me as. I didn’t know how I could settle down with someone else, knowing that I could have been with Ginny Weasley, and the guilt would be too much to bare, when I knew that I was with someone I didn’t love, who loved me in return.

Now I think to myself whether she is as perfect as I portray. I have told her many times about my love for her, and words were used carefully to tell me she didn’t feel the same.

I saw her again last night, and I dared to look into her eyes. They were broken, sad and bottomless. She looked as exhausted as me, but I didn’t give her the pity that I felt.

I couldn’t stand the desire anymore, and I leant down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, and she pounced on the opportunity and returned it with a fiery passion which scared me. I pulled away, although my lips were yearning for more. It wasn’t love, and it was not the Ginny I knew.

I think that that was a moment of realisation for us both. She realised that I loved her all along, but no more. I realised that all I had was lust, and I couldn’t bare to think I was with her for that.

I stared into her eyes, and I sensed a grieving in them. I think she understood what she had done wrong, but I knew that it wouldn’t cease. All I could do was look back pitifully and accept reality.

I couldn’t love her. It pained me to think so, but I knew instantly that she had changed forever, and it was irreversible. I didn’t even bother apologising for my action or reaction.

You want apologies,
Girl you might hold your breath,
Until your breathing stops forever.
The only thing you’ll get,
is this curse on your lips,
And I hope they taste of me forever.

And this was exactly what I felt. I hope my taste pains her as much as hers did me, but somehow I doubt it. She had Draco after all. I thought about the time I had wasted thinking of her, when the people who cared about me had waited in bay.

I wished that I could turn back time, but it was too late for that. I could only hope that they would be needing me as much as I was needing them. I now stop thinking of Ginny as the unfortunate one, enslaved by love. She wasn’t the one subjugated.

I was, and always will be. I guess it was never meant to be. I wasn’t meant to be loved.

I can’t wake up to these reminders of who I am:
A failure at everything.
Eighteen going on extinct:
I know my place, it’s no where you should roam.

And that’s the way I’ll always be: alone.