Anytime I looked at you, I felt so obvious - like everyone could see right through me. But I still liked looking at you.

Can you look at me now? Does it kill you to look at me and remember the past, the way it killed me to look at you and imagine the future? Even now, I see those things when I look at you--

Finding myself somehow terribly in love with you, I began daydreaming about the future, you see - and I found it to be dismal. 'Give me a reason to hope,' I used to pray. 'How can we be together? I need you so badly... Just give me a reason to hope...'

Kill me for my naivété, I know. Lover though you may have been to me, we never had any hope. Me, you - even James and Lily and Peter never had any hope. Never. Only I never imagined things would ever be as bad as they actually turned out to be.

Perhaps there's a reason these things happen - or don't happen, as may be the case. Questioning it doesn't really do much good. Right or wrong, though, I can't help but look at you and remember.

So now we've come to this point in our lives, where the fighting is done and the grieving begins. The thing is, we've been fighting for so long that I'm not sure we're able to stop, to grieve, to heal. Unfortunately for us, there seems to be nothing left to fight for anymore.

Very soon, I know, you will look at me and realize you don't need me any longer in this grieving time - I will only make you remember and grieve more. When that time comes, what ever could you do to know the truth? X-ray my soul and discover that when I look at you I still see the future and pray for it?

Yet none of this matters, because the grieving time flies by, and it will end soon. Zipping towards eternity, where I will not see the future and you will not see the past, and none of it will matter any longer.