To my love,

I'm sorry for everything I've ever done. I'm sorry for not telling you earlier what you mean to me. I'm sorry because I was scared, I was afraid. I'm sorry for not being there for you and for not being who you wanted me to be.

I love you. I hope you have realised that. I've loved you ever since I was in my third year and you in your fourth. I hope you have realised what you mean to me. I hope you understand why I never told you.

I used to watch you at every chance I got. I watched you as you interacted among your friends, I watched you when you were practising Quidditch, I watched you as you were studying at the library, I watched you eating and laughing. I loved to watch you. You were always so full of grace and elegance, incomparable elegance, on the ground and in the air.

The way you walked reminded me of a proud majestic cat, full of feline grace, powerful and strong. I loved the way your hair flows down your back like a blanket of smooth gold. I've always wanted to run my fingers through your hair.

I used to think that you were an insufferable git. I noticed that most of the Slytherin girls would go soft at the knees at the mere mention of your name or at the briefest glance towards them. I thought they were crazy but now I understand their feelings. I fell for you your elegance and your smile when you did smile, your eyes your hair, your subtle sense of humour and your voice. You can be really, really nice if you want to.

I felt so envious when you began dating Pansy Parkinson. I was dead heartbroken. In my fifth year I had noticed you staring right at me your face devoid of the sneer I had expected to see. When our eyes locked, you turned away. Weirdly enough I felt elated. I saw you watching me a few other times and once I thought I saw a slight smile appear on your lips. I felt like I was soaring with happiness.

I soon found out that not only were you extremely good-looking, you were also sweet, gentle and kind. I remember once, I was rushing back to my common room. Peeves had left water all along the corridors. I slipped and fell almost right at your feet. You immediately picked me up and collected my books for me. You then led me into a nearby classroom where you noticed my cuts and scratches. You Summoned some ointment and band-aids. You placed me on a seat and proceeded to clean my wounds and bandage them yourself. You were so concerned and gentle that I fell for you big time. The worry that filled your beautiful eyes made my stomach do flip-flops. You cared about me! The note and the chocolates you sent me the next day made me feel that, in my books, you could do no wrong.

Before you left school, you came up to me a single red rose in your hand and told me that you had feelings for me. I wanted to throw my arms around you, hold you tight to me and kiss those soft pink lips of yours but something held me back. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you too but no words came out. Your rose fell to the floor as I turned and walked away determined that you would not see the hot stinging tears coursing down my cheeks. I resisted running over to you and picking up the single, delicate, fragile rose, and holding you tight to me but I kept on walking without turning...

After I finished school, I hoped that I would not have to worry about my feelings and you. I was wrong. As I worked in the Ministry, I kept seeing you. Trying to forget to forget you was too hard when I kept seeing you but you never noticed me.

After the Great Wizarding War, all around me, my brothers and my friends were starting their own families, having their own lives. Harry became the top Auror in the Ministry and was married to Cho Chang, Hermione became the assistant-headmistress at Hogwarts and Ron was playing keeper with the Chudley Cannons, married and had two kids. I never got serious about settling down. I kept hoping that someday, things would change and somehow we would be together.

You and I were on different sides during the War. I wondered why you turned to the Dark Lord. Was it because you had wanted to? Or did your father force you to? If I had told you my feelings would things have been different?

Then one day I realised that I had to wake up from this dream of mine. I tried to convince myself that we were not meant to be I tried to move on. It's simply amazing how feelings can tear you up. Moving on is hard and painful when your heart doesn't want to but your mind does. I threw myself at my work and books but to no avail.

My friends kept telling me about you and your lifestyle even though I told them that I didn't like you anymore. I lied to them, but I couldn't lie to my own heart. You were always throwing wild parties and living life to the fullest. You always had a pretty girl on your arm. I had always wished that it were I on your arm, in your embrace. I had the chance years ago, but let it go. I regret that. I wondered why I was always someone new. Were you looking for something in them?

When the news came out about you marrying Blaise Zabini, I was so upset but I didn't know why I was. I guess I was just jealous. You were still a huge part of me and I didn't to let you go. I felt that you were mine and mine alone. I wondered why you chose her. Was it because of her body? Her mind? Maybe you found that special something in her, something that you didn't find in your other lovers.

I was so distressed thinking about you and her. Your marriage didn't last and I felt an odd searing joy when I heard that morsel of news. I had a chance with you. I wanted to tell you about how I felt for you but somehow I didn't... I couldn't.

But yet, when I saw you the next time at the Ministry, I purposely bumped into you. For a moment you looked surprised then you flushed and then turned away like nothing happened, your face impassive. My heart sank. I decided then that you were ancient history. I was determined to forget you.

But I didn't. I did go out with a few guys. But every guy I went out with seemed to be missing something. One was too sweet, one was too tall, another was to short, and one was actually gay. They weren't the same as ... well, you.

I heard that you're getting married again. Congratulations. Hecate Liam and you look good together but for the last time I wish it were me. I wish I could say honestly say I hope you'll be happy together, but I can't.

Somewhere along the line, I have lost all the will to live. I'm sick of life. I'm sick of people and their stupidity. I'm tired of always trying to be on top, trying to excel. I'm just tired of living. I'm tired of routine and seeing the same places and faces without variation. I'm sick of people and humankind. I'm sick of people expecting great things out of me. So this is my finally goodbye.

I have just concocted a potion to help me end my life. I hope it'll be painless. I hope you will be able to forgive me. I never meant it to happen like it did but... I wanted to tell you how I feel before I go. My questions will remain unanswered.

I'll be waiting for you. Goodbye.

Always Yours,

Ginny Weasley.

(A/N: tell me if you guys want me to get Draco to save her or not. R & R ppl.)