It would make you smile to learn that you're still managing to be enigmatic and maddeningly frustrating beyond the grave. It's been months and months, and I don't think I'll ever sort it out. Not on my own, at least. And I can't tell anyone else. They wouldn't understand.
Draco certainly didn't. George most certainly won't. He'd go running for the hills. After all, I'm damaged goods. You really have ruined me, Pirate.
Sally-Anne tries. She's tried to understand me more than anyone, I think. But it's not as easy as it used to be, and I wonder if she thinks it's worth the effort any more.
Sometimes when I light the candles and call out your name something almost answers me back, and it's like I'm in the Department of Mysteries all over again listening at the veil, or holding Marie up to my ear, and it feels so right, but it's too quiet for me to sort out the words. I hope you can hear me. I hope you know that you're remembered.
Sometimes I think I'll die before I have the chance to find you and give you a proper grave, and then we'll both be wandering lost and alone forever.
I want so very many things that will never come true. Everything seems so pointless sometimes.
Including dwelling on hopeless wishes, I suppose.
So I'll light the candles and say your name and put two sickles on the windowsill just for you, and that will have to be enough for now.
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branchandroot
ORDER ONLY: Private Message to Regulus
Date: 2014-05-21 02:06 am (UTC)It would make you smile to learn that you're still managing to be enigmatic and maddeningly frustrating beyond the grave. It's been months and months, and I don't think I'll ever sort it out. Not on my own, at least. And I can't tell anyone else. They wouldn't understand.
Draco certainly didn't. George most certainly won't. He'd go running for the hills. After all, I'm damaged goods. You really have ruined me, Pirate.
Sally-Anne tries. She's tried to understand me more than anyone, I think. But it's not as easy as it used to be, and I wonder if she thinks it's worth the effort any more.
Sometimes when I light the candles and call out your name something almost answers me back, and it's like I'm in the Department of Mysteries all over again listening at the veil, or holding Marie up to my ear, and it feels so right, but it's too quiet for me to sort out the words. I hope you can hear me. I hope you know that you're remembered.
Sometimes I think I'll die before I have the chance to find you and give you a proper grave, and then we'll both be wandering lost and alone forever.
I want so very many things that will never come true. Everything seems so pointless sometimes.
Including dwelling on hopeless wishes, I suppose.
So I'll light the candles and say your name and put two sickles on the windowsill just for you, and that will have to be enough for now.
I miss you.
Every day.