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.


58. Day eighty-nine

Liam called me today, asking if I wanted to grab something to eat. My stomach gurgled in response, so I agreed. I guess it was just an excuse to stop torturing myself with the dreams that I had been having…
We passed the graveyard on the way to the restaurant, and I asked the driver to pull over quickly. Liam gave me a strange look, before following my rushing body through the door and towards your grave. I had never visited your grave with anyone else, so I wasn’t quite able to do the usual routine.
I’m sorry.
But I did manage to sing to you, along with Liam. Our voices echoed throughout the graveyard, bouncing from tombstone to tombstone, sending our voices flying through the area. I hope you liked our song. But I do miss singing to you with just me around, so I think I’ll stick to visiting you alone.
By the way, the food at the restaurant was good, and I’m finally regaining my appetite. Not that it matters.

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