Hey all...My first sorta sad fic. It'll get better though. Based on the book, P.S. I Love You Please Review!
P.S. I Love you…
"I'm so sorry. There's nothing we can do."
These where the words spoken on August 1, 2010. They haunt me. Scare me. Force me to tears. Those words changed my whole life, and ended someone's.
OnAugust first, 2010, my husband Luke was diagnosed with a Schwannoma brain tumor.
Luke was a muggle born wizard in my year at Hogwarts. He was tall with blond hair and the boldest blue eyes you'd ever see. He wasn't particularly built, but longer and lean, a chaser for the Ravenclaw quidditch team. He was perfect and sweet. We wed on September 21st, 2003 when I was 22. I loved him more than life itself. But my life fell apart that Wednesday morning. He told me to be strong. To hold on. He assured me that he'd be fine. But I knew better. Schwannoma tumors are pear shaped and can cause numbness to the face, balance loss, headaches, and affect the senses. If only we would have noticed sooner, before it started pushing on his brain stem. If only…
"I'm so sorry Ginny…"
"I can't believe this…"
"Oh he was so young."
Yes, Luke was young. Just past thirty on February 12, 2011, the day he died. That day was dreadful. I sat beside his bed at Saint Mungos and watched his breaths slow. I watched his vital signs drop. Then it was peaceful. I could feel it happening, even through my body racking sobs. I felt the life drain out of him. My husband. I looked at him, his eyes glassed over. I kissed his forehead, closed his eyes, kissed his eyelids, and cried.
No one was there. Only me. Someone should have been there! Someone! Everyone thought he still had months! Months! You don't live months with a brain tumor I would tell them. And Luke didn't. My skin turned sallow and pale from sitting in the hospital for so long. My hair lost it's shine. I fell apart. He should have never had the fucking tumor! They are twice as likely to occur in women as in men! It should have been me. I couldn't even go to the goddamn funeral. I just couldn't. I couldn't bear to see people fawning over me. Like I was special because I didn't die. It's not right. And now it's March. March 4, 2011, and I'm dead inside. Everyone sees it. That good ol' Ginny spark is gone.
What am I going to do? I asked myself. I was sitting on the worn sofa at my Mum's house. It was nearly dawn. No point in sleeping. I had moved back in to my parents house after…God I'm pathetic. I still can't say he died. It made it real. And everyone was so set on making me happy. They didn't understand I though I'd never be happy again. How can I go on? The puzzle piece that was my heart died. The salty tears poured down my face. You'd think I would have dry up with how much I cried. Everyone tried to comfort me. Except Harry. I found myself strangely happy about this. I knew he cared. But it was so much more sincere without the show like the others put on.
And there a was. Miserable because I was living. Living without him. And I knew I wasn't the only one that missed him. Ron and Hermione, they're married now, became very close to him over the years. He and Ron acted like brothers. Percy never really got along with him. Fred and George never really knew him. And the rest, besides Mum and Dad who adored him, liked him well enough. But no one seemed to understand that I LOVED him. I still love him. I looked out and to my surprise the sun was up. I heard someone inside. It was Hermione. She used to come over early.
"No sleep again Gin?" she asked.
I shook my head. She handed me a cup of tea. Like a fucking cup of tea can fix everything. She didn't understand. No one understood. And just like that I was off again. I hated crying. I hated being weak. Everyone kept telling me how brave I was, but I couldn't believe it. They'd tell me I was brave when Luke faced death almost alone. His bravery was astounding. The burrow became busy around midday. Bills oldest daughter, Charlene who's 15 at the time and completely self-absorbed, was staying with Mum while Bill and Fleur were taking a month-long holiday to France to visit her parents. I used to take her out and spoil her like a good aunt should but then I wasn't really up for it.
All I really felt like doing is crawling in to bed and sleeping. It was only four in the afternoon. This used to be Luke's favorite time of day. He would come home from work early some days and sneak up behind me and throw me over his shoulder and take me up to bed. He would make love to me for hours. I loved every minute. I wish he'd done it more often. I let out a rare smile at the memory and Harry notices. He stopped by after a Quidditch match for a bite to eat. The house really was quite crowded then. Everyone went to Harry's matches. But not me. I couldn't bare it.
Dinner passed slowly but finally I had some alone time on the back swing. Or at least I thought. Harry joined me shortly after I start crying. He had a box with him. He set it down wordlessly next to me, gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and went inside. I looked at it and my heart leapt. It was in Luke's handwriting and it said, "The List."
I couldn't believe it. It was Luke. I opened the box and found the first of what looked like eleven envelopes. It read:
My Dearest Ginerva,
Oh how I miss you. I know I do. I must be gone if you're reading this. I hope it finds you in good health. Please be happy. This is a new chapter in your life. Please. I know it's hard. Believe me I don't know how you're functioning. (That was my Luke) Please don't keep a brave face for everyone. Talk to someone. You need someone.
P.S. I love you
Tears poured freely now. I remembered the conversation Luke and I had jokingly.
"Luke do you have a pencil?" I asked, trying to write a grocery list.
He handed me one and I handed him a broken one.
I nodded and giggled.
"What will you do when I'm gone and there's no one to give you pencils?" he asked smiling.
"I'll just have to find another pencil man. I'm sure there are A LOT of volunteers."
He responded by kissing me on the neck.
"Hey stop that I'm busy!" I cried in mock outrage. "I'm making you a shopping list."
"Who will do the shopping?"
"I will silly!"
"Gin," he said and pointed to a plant on the counter, "Is that what you want to look like? All pruney and dead?"
"Then I'll just have to leave you a list, for when I'm gone"
I nodded and kissed him soundly.
I looked at the first envelope that said March on it in his messy handwriting. I carefully took it out and removed the letter. It was short and sweet. It read:
Go out and buy a muggle pencil sharpener. It'll save trees.
P.S. I love you