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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22. Day thirty

Today the boys and I spent a day of silence in your honor, refusing to answer any calls or text, or even just talk to each other. It was pure silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one though; it actually felt a little nice. We lounged around yours and mine flat today, putting in your favorite movies to watch throughout the day. We all sat huddled together, grasping onto each other as we cried our eyes out. Sniffles echoed throughout the room and tissues were crumpled into piles surrounding us. We were a sorry sight to see.
But needless to say, that was the closest I had felt with them in a while.

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