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December 25th, 2006

I've been back in Spain for maybe half an hour and the first thing I get when I Apparated home is an Owl from George with his and Molly's presents. Molly even sent a note. I'm a loathsome man.

I'm still trying to figure out why I went back to London, really. I don't know if I should have, though now it's late to be thinking about that. The thing is that I went. I really shouldn't have. I move all the way here, intent on forgetting him and what do I do when he asks me to go back? Do his will like the fucking love-sick puppy I am. No wonder he thinks I want bunnies and rainbows.

I'm not saying it was bad. I just would've rather things to be different, I guess.

It was all just awkward.


December 5, 2006


I actually had to make myself sit down and write. I don't know why, but I don't want to. I don't feel like doing anything as a matter of fact. I have two parchments in my desk, to Owls I started to write I don't know how long and yet, I can't seem to get past Dear Oliver or Dear Lisa. The parchments mock me, I know, and Hedwig is not that fond of me right now. I think she is bored, yet she refuses to go and visit Hermione without an Owl.


I have a job and haven't told anyone yet, again, that would mean writing or ringing and I just, I can't. It's not that I don't have anything to say, it's that I can't say to whom I want to. I keep writing to him, in my mind, time and time again. I can't stop thinking of things I'd say to him, of things I want him to know, of things left unsaid, and it's driving me mad, because, how can I get all of it out? I can't, I know that.


It's funny, but I can't stop thinking about him, now even more than when I was in London and I thought that I could drop by or ring him, at least, but it was never my right, just something I took. It goes to show you can't really run away from your problems. I've put physical distance between us -I should rethink that, considering the wanker Apparated all the way from London to Spain- but that's not enough. Will this ever get better? Wasn't it supposed to be better already? I want to think it is, that I'm healing and that I'll get over it, after all it's obvious that whatever morbid attraction he felt for me is gone and that should be enough for me, to keep going, to keep surviving, just like I've always done. The fact that I'm asking myself for the first time in my life if it's worth it, if keeping on surviving is really what I want to do, should mean nothing. It is nothing, and so am I.  


I should write to him. I think I may do just that.


October 31st, 2006


I am trying, okay. I am. I even went to a party last night. I'm giving a party tonight. I just don't know if it's any good. I know that is too soon, it's only been, what, seven days? I just, I know that every day that goes by just reaffirms the fact that he doesn't care. I can't help but think of Oliver's words, of how he said that if he wasn't a 100% into this, then it wasn't worth it.


The truth is that I shouldn't expect anything less. It was all me, I can see it now. Just me encouraging this one-sided, doomed from the start feeling. He was very clear. I was imposing and the fact that he responded on occasion does not change his words. He asked me to leave him alone. Even that day. Oh God, I had him, claimed him like I wanted to, like he challenged me. How can one single moment produce both elation and despair? I can’t help but think that he was just giving in, just trying to appease me, just to see if I'd finally let him alone.


It worked, didn't it? It worked.  


I just need to get this out, to get him out of my system or at least try to live with this. The thing is I can't even be mad at him. It's all my fault. My fault.


October 29, 2006

 Who would've thought that after all he was right? I am pathetic. It's been what, five days? I don't know and yet it feels like a month. Of course, now that I decided I won't Owled him anymore I do nothing but itch to grab a quill and some parchment and confess to him my darkest secrets. I miss him. God, I miss him so much and how can you miss someone that's never been yours to miss?


I know he's not mine, but that stupid thing inside me called heart doesn't seem to be privy of the fact. I just, I can't keep trying to understand what, I'm afraid, has no explanation. I love him. I love him so much it hurts. For the first time in my life I know the true meaning of the world yearn. I yearn for him, his lips, his legs, his eyes. Just him. All of him.


Fucking arsehole was right. I am pathetic.  


October 4, 2006

What am I supposed to do? I mean, I've always known that. It was a matter of whether I wanted to do it or not, a matter of seeing if I could do it, but never, I've always known what I'm supposed to do. Now I'm lost. Do I even consider it? Can I do that? Can I gamble like that with something so important? Fuck, I need a fag.

If only he knew how true his words are. I'm about to be destroyed. I'm going to lose it all. I know that. There's no way I could have, that I can have, it's just not done, not my lot in life. I don't even dare hope.

September 18, 2006

It's come to this, to this point of no return. I have to do something about this, or it will eat me alive. Oliver's words about knowing myself keep running in my head. I believe what I told him, I know myself, at least as good as one can. I think my problem is that I lie to myself. I try to convince me of things that are not there, that are never going to be and at the same time, I ignore those that really are. I went out last night, hoping that maybe if I pulled I could stop this, even if only for awhile. I went to this Muggle club, I'm still not ready to have my activities sprawled all over the Daily Prophet. I told myself I was going to give it a go with the first person I liked, no comparing, no looking at what was missing, no thinking. It was between this girl and this bloke, but in the end, he won, because I wasn't really in the mood for being careful. We crossed a few words, it wasn't about making friends or anything, and soon enough I was leaning against a wall, him on his knees in front of me. It was obvious he had assumed that position plenty of time, his skill considerable. And the only thing I could think was how wrong it was, how wrong it felt. How his dark hair -the wrong colour- felt rough between my fingers instead of soft, how the pressure of his lips was not enough or too much, but never just right, how his tongue seemed to miss that spot that another had found immediately. And yet, I was hard, just thinking about that other time, thinking about the lips and the tongue and just the right amount of teeth and the wetness and pressure and the blond, silky hair between my fingers and the eyes, the eyes that torment me. I had closed the eyes at one point and when I opened them and looked down, the wrong eyes were looking back, wrong colour, wrong shape, wrong gaze. Wrong man. That thought was enough to make me come. I didn't return the favour, and I don't think I was expected to, but I wouldn't have, even if I was, because I don't think I could've stomach the wrong taste. It would've been too much.

And there it is, that is my truth, the one thing I should've seen years ago, perhaps the only unfinished business of my life, the one thing that has kept me suspended in this nothingness. I fancy him, truly, fancy him. I like him. I said it. And even if I keep deluding myself into believing it is something else, the true is that I'm lying to myself. Merlin knows I' very good at deluding myself. I used to do it when I was a child, thinking that someone would come and rescue me from the Dursleys. It was going to be something wonderful, full of adventure and happiness. Instead I found I was marked for death by a lunatic wizard. I deluded myself into thinking that Ron was my true friend, that I was finally going to have a family, a parent of sorts in Sirius, that I was going to be able to have a normal life and be content. I almost delude myself into thinking that I wanted to marry Ginny. My life is all a succession of lies, of illusions. This is not different. I'm back in front of the Mirror of Erised, except this time, what I see, what I want, is far more impossible than having my parents back. And far more harmful.

And I can't waste my life chasing a fool's dream. So I'm going to kill this. I'm going to live it and let it run its course and I'll just drain it before it does me.


September 11, 2006

That pompous, arrogant, condescending, patronising, arsehole! Who the bloody hell does he think he his? I swear I could, God, I don't even know. Fuck you, Malfoy! Fuck you and your pureblood upbringing and fuck your money! That good for nothing heir. I can almost see him with that smug smirk, the same one I wish I could just wipe out of his face, and I'm not thinking about anything pleasurable this time. And then he has the nerve to say I'm, like it was my fault, only my fault. It wasn't me who started it that day, well, I did kiss him, but that was all, I didn't ask, him on his knees and his mouth and God, get a grip Harry! The Owl, yeah, just think about the Owl.

Just, Merlin, I, what else do you need Harry, what else? He's just having a fucking brilliant time playing with you while you are just brooding acting like a pushover with this unrequited... No, not that. Never that. This is just lust, attraction, bloody chemistry, but not that, it's just not that. I just, I seem to have forgotten what I hate about him, that's all, yeah, I just forgot that he is just a vicious, selfish, self-serving Slytherin, yeah, that's what he his. A fucking devious, cruel man, no matter what his friends say, he's just...

Wait, I could've been, I'm so stupid, just, and how come I didn't see it? I just, I need to remember why I hated about him and to do that I just need to spend some time, that's all, and then I won't care about his lips or mouth or his long legs or how he smells and tastes, I won't because I won't be able to stand him and that will be it and I will be able to get passed this and then it'll all be all right. Yeah, that's all I have to do. Let's see if he can stand the Gryffindor/Slytherin combination.


August 15, 2006

Nightmares about maniac Dark Lords and their ultimate annihilation: zero
Dreams about arrogant, long-legged, walking wet dream blonds: two
Owls or messages sent to arrogant, long-legged, walking wet dream blonds: zero
Times watching Bridget Jones's Diary: one too many, apparently

I've decided to leave behind my Liquors of the World Tasting Fest. Can't bloody stand my stomach anymore and even though spending my holiday in a drunken stupor sounded like a brill idea at first, it proved to be problematic. I'll have to find something else to occupy my free time with.

What should I talk in here about? The way I keep alienating myself from the people that is supposed to care for me? The particular proper way in which I'm handling my apparent passing fancies (Merlin, I hope it is a passing fancy)?

I wouldn't even know where to begin with Ron. It's, I'm still trying to understand how come he didn't know. I knew that if we ever got to talk about all the mess, the war and the aftermath, it was bound to be explosive, but I'd never imagine it to be like this. I honestly don't see how we can go back to have a friendship. He hates what I am. He hates me; and I don't know if I have in me to try and make it work. This is the Chamber of Secrets and the Tri-Wizard Tournament all over again. It seems whenever in doubt, is easier to believe the worst about me, which only means he doesn't trust me and never has. In his mind I may as well be the next potential Dark Lord, always on the verge to lose it, to get bent (little late for that, I reckon :p). I can't blame him though. I've thought the same countless time. Just what will push me to the edge?

And Hermione in the middle of it all, and Merlin, I'm a sodding wanker. How didn't I know? I've always suspected, but I didn't want to see, because that would only make me even guiltier. It was my fault they caught them, my fault they were tortured, my fault people died, just because that motherfucker bastard wanted me. It was my decision to go after Ron first, fuck, but God knows I'd have given everything to bring them back, both of them as soon as possible.

I've always thought that we never talked about it all because of them, because they didn't want to talk about it, because they needed the time, the space. Now I'm not so sure I'm prepared to talk.

There's nothing much I can say about my other issues, is there? I fancy someone who despises me. Someone dangerous, because even though he does hate me, he's not afraid to use whatever this is to hurt me. It shouldn't hurt; it is just lust, right? Just years and years of pent up unresolved sexual tension, because he can say whatever he wants, but there's that, the chemistry, the physical component and it's not just one way. We've always been drawn to each other, like differently charged poles. Just plain sexual tension, that's all it is and all it'll always be. It has to be.
I'm scared, so bloody scared, because, fuck it those weren't the best kisses of my life. I don't even want to analyse it, but I can't forget it. It was just fucking perfect, just physical, but perfect. I can't think about it without getting hard, I must've wanked myself raw (really shouldn't have written that in here, yeah?)

Bottom (no pun intended) line, I'm truly well fucked, and not in the life affirming way.

July 3rd, 2006

It's been almost a month since that day. That means nothing and everything at the same time. Actually, what should matter is that pretty soon, it will be a year since the day. It's all the same. I try and try and try to explain it and I just can't. There is no explanation but the truth and it doesn't matter if I've been denying it this past month. Of course I did just that. Why would I give thought to the notion, the possibility, the idea, that I've been having those dreams and that they were, are about him.

Do I really want to go there? I mean, how can I... Why, why? Out of what?

And I just can't allowed myself to think, because if I do, I'll want to know and I'll get like I do and I promised myself I wouldn't lose control over this matter anymore. But things are different now, aren't they? I can't, I just can't keep wondering.

Fuck it.


May 8, 2006

Okay, I just, I keep going around and around the same thing and I can't stop. Draco Malfoy and Starbucks, together. Draco Malfoy, drinking, coffee, at Starbucks. I'm still trying to convince myself that I dreamt it, because, I mean, come on. Mr. I'm-a-Malfoy-and-we-don't-mix-with-Muggles. Honestly!

It's all rubbish, I know. People just keep going and then they change and he's not that different from the rest of us, even if he's not anything more than his cold distant self. That's something that hasn't change. At all. I swear he could freeze someone with that look. Doesn't anything moves him anymore?

I remember when we were at Hogwarts. Malfoy was always a coward. The Slytherin always call it self-preservation, but it is cowardice all the same. Not doing what you have to do, out of your own sake is the biggest form of cowardice. He was never a physical bully, like Dudley, that's what he had Crabbe and Goyle for. At least I think so. I can't remember him attacking or using physical force with anyone. Well, except with me. My nose still hurts on rainy days.

No, he was an intelligent bully. I don't think that makes any sense. What was I writing about? Oh, right. Malfoy was at Starbucks, drinking Muggle coffee. Using a Muggle pen!

And he ignored me once again. And I reacted once again. And I can't bloody understand why I did it. Why do I care.


Wicked Game

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I knew somebody like you.

No, I don't want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I don't want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)

What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,

I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you no,

No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I... (This world is only gonna break your heart)
(This world is only gonna break your heart)

Nobody loves no one.

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