Wow, finally an update from me! Amazing I know. I'm sorry about the huge time gap, but I have most of the story finished, so the rest of the chapters should be posted fairly rapidly here.
Two Beds and a Coffee Machine
I sighed as I sank on to the bed in the small room I had rented for the night. It was a sleazy motel, but I knew it was better than going home that night. He knew where I lived, and after I walked out on him like that, there was no saying in what he'd do. He's been better lately, but Lord knows there are always relapses.
I knew he never thought it'd happen. I don't think he ever thought he'd become an alcoholic either. He was trying so hard to be better. I know he hated himself when he got drunk, and even more when he started hitting me. But yet, he didn't stop. That's probably why I chose to leave on a night he was sober.
He had been sober for a few weeks now, actually (not including Ginny's party a few nights ago). He was getting better. It didn't help our situation, but it was good to know he was getting better. Even if he wasn't an alcoholic, I would have left anyway. I didn't love him anymore, and we both knew it wasn't working. Even when he was sober we bickered constantly. It was driving me insane. I wasn't sure when I was going to leave, but when he brought up Harry, I knew it was then.
I looked around the dimly lit room. There were two beds and a coffee machine. That was basically the extent of it. The carpet had stains that I didn't really wish to investigate and the curtains looked as though they were made of pure dust. The comforter on the bed was nearly translucent, with a pattern that would be mocked in any normal home. Through all of its filth, it was somewhat comforting. I felt like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.
He was still my best friend, there was no question about it. I am going to do all I can to get him help. I will be there for him every single step of the way…
But as a friend.
It was for the best, it truly was. I couldn't go on pretending anymore. We were both getting hurt and it wasn't worth it.
Tears burned in my eyes as I felt the fading bruises on my arm. I winced involuntarily as pain throbbed in the bruises. I wasn't sure if the pain was physical or emotional. My leaving really was for the best. I don't know how far things would have gone, and I'm kind of scared to think about it. I'm thankful that at Ginny's party, the drinks Ron had didn't make him overly mean or abusive. At least I knew there were a load of people there, so not much could happen. Harry was there, too. I always felt safe when Harry was around. I kind of wished I was with Harry tonight. I knew he would protect me from anything. A tear slipped as I remembered the feeling of his hands around my waist. His touch of care and protection made me never want to leave that dance floor.
I stood up and paced around the room a bit. My mind was restless; thoughts of what comes next encumbered my head. Sitting down now would only cause me to be overtaken by tears, and I'd had enough of that in the past months. I wanted to be strong again. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to be free. Suddenly my chest felt lighter as the realization that I would be free swept over me. Another tear slipped from my eye, except this time it was in hope.
As soon as I possibly could, I was going to talk to Harry and Ginny. I needed them to help me confront Ron. If just I confronted him, things could get ugly. If all of us did it, it might still get ugly, but might convince him easier. It was going to be hard though; I hadn't told anyone about what was going on. I couldn't. But I couldn't hide the bruises anymore.
There's hope in the darkness, and I know I'm going to make it through.
All I know is that something has to be done, and fast. I know if I have Harry at my side, it will all be okay.
I just wonder how I ever made it.
-->