[AUTHOR'S NOTE] – I had already planned on doing a letter from Ginny's point of view, and after many requests, I knew I had to do it, whether I was planning it or not. This one is definitely from a girl's point of view. Enjoy, and please review.
To the Groom,
Congratulations. It certainly has been awhile, hasn't it? I hope that all is well with you and your bride. I'd like to tell you that the ceremony was lovely, but unfortunately, I couldn't make it. I hear it was gorgeous, however.
I'm awfully sorry that I never replied to your last message. Enclosed is a letter I wrote long ago and had every intention to send to you, but never found a fitting time. I realize that now is as good as ever, so I hope that it will suffice as a long-overdue reply.
I love to write. I love writing about the things I see and hear and feel and think and wonder. I love the way the word "blue" can make someone feel cold or calm or sad; I love the way the word "red" reminds someone of love and passion and anger and heat. The written word is so colorful and poetic. You can do anything with words. You can make someone fall in love with your words. You can make a heartless man feel with your words. You can make a young woman cry with your words. There was a time that words made my heart bounce and my cheeks flush and my eyes crinkle with a happy smile. There was a time that I fell in love with somebody's words. There was a time I made somebody cry with words.
It's true – the pen is mightier than the sword.
I've already heard your story. I've heard about the heartless girl who broke your heart – you, the suffering poet, bleeding with passion. You - so wronged by that cruel female who didn't even think about the way you would feel after she stomped over your poor, tormented heart. Oh yes, you were hurt. And you were so passionate. And you were so brave to fully give yourself to that undeserving character that then spat on you and gave you right back. Such a soldier. A soldier fighting for love.
In fact, aren't you the same soldier whose heart was once broken? The same soldier who gave up on love? The same soldier who didn't bother to come after the one you were so in love with? Oh, but I must be mistaken. Soldiers for love don't give up. They don't lie in their graves letting the rejection cover them like a blanket of dirt while their heart beats like a snare drum. Surely I must be mistaken. Are you sure you were so in love?
You say you were. You cross your heart and hope to die. Maybe I cross my heart and hope to die too. Maybe I just cross my heart. Or maybe I just hope to die.
You can't save me now, soldier. I put myself out in no-man's land. I was walking to the other side. From love to logic. I got halfway across. You didn't come to rescue me. "No man is to be left behind," they say. Well, I was left behind. I was captured by Logic. I waited, and hoped for Love to rescue me. For you to rescue me, soldier. To not give up. To believe that there was something worth fighting for; that I was worth fighting for. You never came. And a soldier fighting for logic won me over. Because he told me I could be content. And happy. I forgot what fighting for love meant. I forgot that love meant being happy and content just like logic, but that it also meant heartbeats like a snare drum and knees that melt like wax and a feeling that wraps you in warmth and tells you that everything is perfect. That you are perfect. You never came to remind me of that, soldier.
But you're so brave and valiant. You let down your walls after I was gone. You let down your walls and cried. You didn't know what it felt like to cry. Well, my sweet, suffering poet, I know what it's like to cry. I knew what it was like to cry before I found you. And I knew what it was like to cry after I lost you. I know what the wells that spring up behind your eyes feel like. I've known the pain of a fast heartbeat and a cold, tight throat. My lips have quivered and trembled not only from being so close to you, but from being so far from you as well. Yes, you were definitely the hurt party here. I admit I was the cruel one. I was the one who stepped on your heart and danced on the remains. But don't you know I found a few teardrops of my own in that pile of pain? No, you don't know that. Because you're only willing to recognize your own pain. And your own love. And your own fight for love.
You kissed me once. And it was so perfect. Because the breeze was warm and the night was cool and the leaves were rustling and you were humming a song that sounded like love. And your touch was passion on my cool flesh. It was orange and yellow touching green and a blue that faded into turquoise and purple. Our nights were so beautiful. I know you agree. I have written proof on paper, and I have written proof on your heart and soul as well. All it will take is one look at you to see it. I know you remember. How could anyone forget? The way we moved was like an intricate dance. I never wanted it to end. Perfectly choreographed, our fingertips moving in time with the spin of the Earth and our lips sliding against each other's to an unwritten song within our souls. I had fallen so hard and so fast without even realizing it.
But Logic was calling to me. I just wanted to hear his side of the story, just once. I think he was slightly jealous. He finally realized how much he wanted me to be his. But I don't think he knew that the blush in my cheeks and the yellow aura that surrounded me and the swagger in my step were because I'd found Love. I don't think he realized that Love was already a part of me. I just don't think he understood that. I climbed over Love's trench. I walked out into the middle of the raging battle. I was captured. And my soldier fighting for love never came after me. And then I lost my blush and my glow and the swing in my hips. And Logic didn't understand. And he gave up on me. And Love gave up on me. Neither side wanted me. I wasn't useful anymore.
And I know that the only way for me to recover from these battle wounds is you. And I know that your embrace will be my antiseptic, and your kisses will be the bandages, and our body heat and passion will be the healing process, and then when we're one and I know that you're part of me and I'm part of you, and when I know that you've stopped fighting for Love because you've found it in me, then that will be the new tissue. And we will go back home, and receive our badges of honor and rewards and we'll be slightly mad from the battle and the nights will be remembering and the days will be healing and then we won't need any of that anymore. We'll just need each other, because it's only you who will understand me and only me who will understand you. And we'll sweat and breathe and live and feel and love.
Until then, I'll continue stinging my wounds with the salt from my tears, and my loneliness will bandage me, and the healing will never take place because I can't stop bleeding. And I'll have to lie deserted on this battlefield surrounded by remnants of loss and memories of pain. But only until then, my love.
Cross my heart and hope to die.
All of my best wishes to you and your bride, Mr. Malfoy. Do keep in touch.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE] – Ok. I hope you liked it! Remember, disgustingly lengthy reviews. Also, a little note.. she wrote the real letter many years after he wrote his. As you can tell, she's quite grown up. And the wedding congratulation was, of course, written recently. The end. Please review! Very long criticisms and opinions please!! I understand this one wasn't as heartbreaking as the other, but it was just as heartfelt. Review!