Private
I've never had a real journal, or anything like this, where you can just sit down and write your thoughts out on paper. Maybe it'll help, I dunno. I'll take just about any comfort right now.
So. I don't even want to make myself think about Hagrid and everybody. It hurts to bloody much, but every time I smile, or laugh, I always feel guilty. Like I'm not sad enough, like I'm not trying hard enough. There's that little voice in the back of my head though, the one that keeps saying I'll have to get used to all of this.
Or there's the one that keeps telling me to enjoy what life I have left.
I think I'm listening to that one more and more, and it's fucking scary.
I've never wanted to die. I finally fit somewhere. I have friends.
But I have a destiny. A fate. I can't run from it. I've tried, and I'm killing people.
I should be happy for Ron and Hermione. But I'm not. I'm jealous, and I hate that. I want to keep them for myself, but that's ridiculous and I can't ask that of them. I just, want everything to be normal. Not that it's ever normal, but I want it anyway, and I hate myself.
I hate that little voice that's telling me I'm not going to win, that Voldemort's going to kill me, that I haven't got a chance. That I'm not going to live and Hermione and Ron are going to be killed and I can't let that happen.
I hate the part of me that does want to die, so I can see my parents again. So I can see Sirius again.
I hate that I'm the one who wants, needs Ron the most, and I'm the last person in the world that deserves him.
I know life's not bloody fair. I know it's never been fair to me.
But I don't want to be The Boy Who Tried.
Crying makes me feel weak, but I'm crying anyway.