Dear Harry

You've been gone for two weeks now. I haven't been coping well. The boys have even sent me to a therapist to help me forget. But I can't forget. You're all I ever think about. Your luscious curls, the way you smile lights up a room, your green eyes that I love so much. You're impossible to forget. I don't want to forget.

Of course the boys are worried about me. I'm even worried about me. My therapist is worried as well, and that's why she has handed me this journal, so I can write down my innermost thoughts. I have to give it to her every week to read over, but I just feel so weird giving it to her. Most of my thoughts revolve around you, so I guess that's why she wants to read it over, to make sure I'm handling everything well.

But to be honest, I'm not, and yes I'm fairly aware she will read this. But the truth has got to come out sooner or later, yeah? She never specifically told me what to write, but just that I have to write. So I'm writing to you. Starting from day one.

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55. Day eighty-four

I saw you in my dreams last night. You were on stage, which isn’t surprising because you had always told me that’s where you loved to be the most. You looked at me and smiled, beckoning me to come closer.
When you took hold on my hands, it felt as if you were real… and I never wanted to let go. I never wanted the moment to end. Your mouth leaned down to brush against the shell of my ear, and I immediately felt the shivers running down my spine.
“Come with me.” You whispered, and pulled back only a short amount of time before crashing your lips against mine.
It was the most perfect kiss I had ever had. Yet it wasn’t real.
So when I woke up only to find you not there beside me, I began to cry.

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