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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37. Day forty-seven

Management suggested that I take a month long hiatus, and spend that time with my family and healing. But what they don’t understand is that these wounds will never heal. It’s not that I don’t want to see my family, I miss them like crazy.
But if I leave, who will take care of our home?
I just can’t leave our flat Haz, I can’t. I can’t let them touch it. I’m afraid that if I leave, they’ll remove every remnant of you, so when I return there is nothing left of you for me to have.

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