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.


59. Day ninety

Today I visited my mother, right after I visited you of course. I spent the entire day lounging around the house, playing with the girls and catching up with mum and Mark.
It felt nice to be with the family again, and it hurt that I had to leave them soon.
When I pecked mum on the cheek, baring my farewell to her, she held me close to her. She didn’t want me to leave, and she made that clear when she began begging me to stay for the night, which I agreed to.
I guess I might as well have the decency to spend more time with my family before I leave.

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