((de.tout.mon.coeur))

[jackiefontaine]

[jackiefontaine]

Aren't I just a riot? Sitting here, on my bed, scribbling furiously away in the Christmas present Leo had half-heartedly sent me. Heaven forbid I actually call it for what it is. A diary.

Just the title alone is reason enough to bother me.

I'm not going to be one of those cutesy little girls, and address every entry, too. "My dearest diary". What bullshit. I mean, I barely address my letters, why would I address a book? That's just stupid, mindless... ugh.

That reminds me.

I need to stop this madness, really. I can't keep letting myself get like this every time I come across a stupid picture. I had been going through my trunk-- unpacking the stuff that I had put away at the beginning of the year --and this picture just... fell out.

"Like this" for future reference, is refering to the fact that I'm crying right now. Because I'm homesick. Because I'm stupid. Because I'm--

[/b]

Fuck. Ink's smudging. Stupid tears. Stupid Leo.

Not that it's Leo's fault. He can't be here, and I can't be there, but I just could really fucking use a friend right now. Who better than my best friend? My confidant?

Maybe I should just write him a stupid letter and stop drowning in my miseries. No one likes a cry-baby. I just got to suck it up. Put on a smile, and let the pieces fall into place.

Yeah. That's it.[/blockquote][/color]

[jackiefontaine]

Amory Socrates Kerr is now officially added to my "list", and not for the reasons one might expect. No, no, no... if anything from my encounter with the weasel-- oops, I mean Badger, really I do --is that I am not of "the norm". No, Monsieur Kerr needs to be added to my "list" because he made too much sense.

Because he was nice to me.

Because he gave me a little ounce of hope for the human population.

Because, I'd be lying to say that I had any before he had decided to talk to me.

Or, rather, I talked to him, but that's beside the point. All I had done was point out that he needed to turn his page, and he decided to make conversation-- nice conversation. Strangely and consistently nice. Annoying, too, but that comes with the whole "nice" territory.

Not that all types of nice are annoying, either, but really it's more or less the people who can stare sarcasm in the eye and still freakin' smile. Especially when it's my sarcasm, and this sarcasm isn't all in jest. I really didn't want to keep talking to him-- especially when he was diving into some pretty... personal information. But he wouldn't leave me alone. It was almost as if he...

Merlin, it was almost as if he actually cared.

Is it so strange for me to be scared by that idea? I... guess I'm just not used to people caring all too much about me, without them having some ulterior motive-- some gain. But there he was, caring and kind and considerate and trusting--

And annoying, but I'm pretty sure I've mentioned that.

Annoying because he made me think. Really think, too. I've never thought about having a real relationship with someone, and it took Amory Kerr to make me truly think about it. But what does he know, right? He's just a stupid fifth year... he's only a year younger than me, and he's probably had one girlfriend his entire life. So, what does he know about true love, then? What does he know about relationships besides holding hands and sneaking kisses? What does he know about pain and hurt and--

And, anything?

Amory Kerr doesn't know a goddamned thing, that's what. I can't believe I listened to him. I can't believe he's actually made an impact. How could he? He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know anything. He doesn't kno--

Ugh.

No matter how many times I say it aloud, no matter how many times I write it, I... can't bring myself to believe it.

Because... what if he's right?

And because of that chance-- that stupid, annoying little chance that he may be right --Amory Socrates Kerr has officially made my "list".

Stupid, meddlesome Hufflepuffs. They just keep popping up in my life and making things much more complicated than necessary.

[jackiefontaine]

paranoia: (noun) 1. the state of believing the world is out to get you 2. something I am not currently suffering from

Why? Because the world actually IS out to get me-- or at least my grades, anyway. Seriously, what is with people and disrupting my classwork?

Except this time, I suppose, wasn't as... annoying, maybe? Unwelcome-- yeah, that's it. This time, the interruption was highly welcome. Or, at least, the right person had decided to interrupt me.

That's right, Ethan and I are on speaking terms again.

It was weird, though. Talking to him, I mean. Because, really, all through my head all I kept thinking about was... her. Honestly, the moment Ethan's parchment hit my desk, all I could think about was how close we were and how he was probably out for the cheap jabs. The easy jokes. The good laugh. Like everyone else had been after... that.

Because, really, I haven't really had any friends since... that. Not real friends, anyway, the superficial friends I do have really don't count. I tell them what they want to hear, they leave me alone when I don't want to be bothered. Easy. No attatchments. I lost all of those attatchments when--

Anyway, Ethan had been the only one of them who hadn't verbally-- or otherwise --told me he didn't want to be friends anymore. We just sort of... drifted apart. He had friends, Quidditch-- why would he want someone hanging onto him? Someone like me? He wouldn't. Who would?

So, naturally, when he started talking about... that, I just assumed that he was finally doing what I had been waiting for. Finally just... letting me go. I was pissed-- why wouldn't he just leave me be? If he didn't want to be friends, why send me the note? I was horribly reminded of her, and I sort of freaked out a little.

What does he do? He tells me I'm jumping to conclusions. But not just any conclusions.

The wrong conclusions.

He wants to be friends. He wants to talk to me. He wants to keep hanging out with me. He doesn't care. He does, but not in the obvious way. He cares about me-- not my baggage, not my moods, not my clothes, my house, but me.

We're meeting up tonight. Soon, actually. To talk.

But I'm so scared. Even with Ethan, I'm terrified. He's known me throughout most of my life, but I'm terrified of him. He wants in. All the way in. As much as I wish I could just... open up. Just... tell him everything. Just... finally accept a friend, a relationship, an emotional attatchment...

I know I can't. I shouldn't. I won't.

He says nothing's changed. Says I'm fine just the way I am. He's starting to sound like Leo, but... even with that, I just.

I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't.

I can't just do it.
But I'll try. I swear to God, I'll try.
If only for Ethan.

[jackiefontaine]

I can't believe how much I've missed that stupid, stupid boy... Tonight was everything he had promised it would be, and so much more. I have my friend back-- no, even better. I have my best friend back, and it's... wonderful.

(Blehhhhh, to be continued.)

[/blockquote]

[jackiefontaine]

I suppose it was bound to happen. I mean. It should've happened already, but... I had done a pretty decent job at avoiding her. This had been the first class we've taken together. Ever. Well. At least. Since before...

I still hate her. I will always hate her. Ever since she said those things. Ever since she told everyone. Ever since-- no, I will always hate her. She could apologize a million times. She could give me everything I've ever wanted. She could throw herself in front of a killing curse for me, and I will still hate her. I don't even feel guilty about still hating her. I don't feel anything, anymore, really. I just. I fucking hate her.

I mean. I could have heard wrong. I could have only heard the tale end-- the worst end --of the rumors. But I still heard the rumors. I still heard the voice behind said rumors. And I knew that it was her. And I knew, right then, that we would never be friends again. Because she was dead to me. Even then, especially now.

I'm not really making sense, am I? God, I'm just so fucking angry. So angry. So unbelievably and uncontrollably angry. At her. At me. At agreeing to this meeting. At actually planning on going to said meeting. At being willing to listen to her. At the fact that I will listen to her. At the fact that I will probably forgive her.

Not really-- no. Couldn't forgive her. Won't forgive her.

But that won't keep the words from coming out of my big, fat mouth. If only to get her to shut up.

Fuck this. Fuck her. Fuck everything.

I just want him back. I just want to go back to France. Back to Paris. I just want to leave this all behind. Leave Hogwarts in my dust. Leave magic behind. I want my family back. I want everything that I can't have, and I will never have, and. I. Still. Hate. Her.

Because she has everything, and she doesn't even realize it. She has always had everything, and still had the gull-- the audacity --to exploit the fact that I have nothing. That I've always had nothing. She says she missed me. That I left her "at a bad time". Is she kidding? Does she even think before she speaks? Does she even care enough to think? She obviously doesn't care. About anything. Let alone me.

So. I. Will. Always. Hate. Her.
No matter what she says.

[/color][/center]

[jackiefontaine]

Never in my life had I met a person so persistently... there. Willing to talk to me, willing to ask all the wrong questions in search of all the right answers. Seriously, I have the worst headache because I'm still trying to understand exactly what happened. I figured writing it down on paper might help, but now I'm beginning to doubt it. Here I go, anyway:

1] So I'm in the library, attempting to study, like I normally do on nights that I need a distraction. I'm in the Muggle Literature section-- a deserted area, honestly --when suddenly, a boy shows up.

Now. Here's the problem:

a] I was well-hidden. Very well hidden. I made sure of it.
b] Boy can't hear; he's deaf.

So. How does a deaf boy find a girl who was hidden well from view when he wasn't looking for Hemmingway-- whom he seems to worship, stereotypically enough. Ugh. Beside the point.

Still. It. Just. Doesn't. Happen. Like. That.

Ever.

Yet, there he was, picking up on all the little things. Said he wanted to see me smile. Said he wanted to know why I was all alone (and he wouldn't take "studying" as a valid answer). It was as if... he knew exactly what to say, how to say it, when to say it. Like, he knew exactly what types of questions would set me off.

2] After being so persistent-- God, he's making me repeat myself --he just up and leaves. Leaves me alone, despite not going away after I had made it clear he wasn't welcome.

Weird. Awkward. Annoying. Frustrating-- UGH!

Worst part? Not even the fact that I have no idea what was going on, or don't have a shred of hope of ever figuring out what was going on, but it's the fact that I can't do what I had been set on doing because all I can think about is some stupid, persistent boy!

Not in that way, either. I'm just trying to figure him out, t'is all.

Seriously, if I thought I could pick up on the little things, I think I could learn a thing or two from Jacob Edwards. I had lied, I had faked my way through it, and I had done everything possible to insure that nothing I ever said to him was even the slightest bit of a red-flag.

But. He. Caught. Everything.
How?

[/color]

[jackiefontaine]

[jackiefontaine]

{on the back of the page}

So. Leo finally replied to the letter I had sent him a while ago. He was very much a Fontaine in getting it back to me rather quickly (which was sarcasm, for future notice). No, no, my dearest brother only took two weeks to get me a reply. He might've just not sent me a letter at all. I mean...

What the fuck does he know, anyway? How easy it is for him to say that. "Just read it, Jay, what's the worst that could happen, Jay?"

Oh, what could be worse than all my worst nightmares coming true, Leo?

Really. What could possibly be worse than that?

[jackiefontaine]

^{"Because of You" lyrics © Kelly Clarkson.}

[jackiefontaine]

Sebastian Caldwell.

Dear Merlin, even his name sounds so... beautifully perfect. I'm losing my mind, I swear. Honestly, most children get their first crushes when they're, like... six. Okay. So maybe I had, at some point or another, felt an attraction to someone of the opposite sex but... never to this caliber. This is... breaking ground-- dear Merlin, I'm losing any and all sense of mind that I once had just thinking about the poor kid. He was just so painfully oblivious and-- oh!

It couldn't have happened at any worse of a time. Really, it just sort of stinks that Sebastian had to pop into my life right now. I mean, what with Leo and this whole letter business and... I dunno. I have-- or should have, anyway --too much on my mind right now that to have this sudden... adoration? admiration?

Ugh. Fine. I hate the word, but it's the only one that fits.

This sudden crush on another person is just... bothersome.

I just. I can't help it. He-- we met, accidentally, in the owlery. I was mailing Leo his letter, and he was mailing a birthday present to his little sister, and we started talking. And. Well. I mean.

Geez, this just only proves how absolutely stupid I am. I lied. Oh, boy, did I lie. I had just-- it was just too perfect. The situation, the idea, everything. It just fit. I mean, he didn't know me. He didn't know anything about me; I wasn't about to tell my stupid sob-story to one more person. No, I'm tired of talking about it to people who don't care. So, I lied. I told him I had the perfect family life, that everything was just amazing at my house. Total lies. And then, he did the complete unexpected--

Not only did he tell me the truth-- he bared his soul. He told me all the things wrong with his family. We're so similar, it's scary. Really, between his problems with his parents, to the fact that his older brother can't stand him... it's like I found some weird... male... version of myself.

Ew. That's weird to think about, especially because-- well. If I did go out with him-- which I won't, because we'll never see each other again --wouldn't that be like... dating me? I'd be dating myself? That's just a little bit more than creepy, but I've never really been normal before, so what's the difference now?

Huge difference, if we do ever meet again. After all, Sebastian likes the sweet, happy, perfect Jackie; not the real-deal. Not the morbid, depressed, bitter Jackie. I can't even remember what lies I told him; just that they were lies. I even said that he... that he was alive.

God, this boy has driven me out of my own damn mind.

_{"I'm Not in Love" lyrics © 10cc}

[/right]

[jackiefontaine]

[jackiefontaine]

So. I still have yet to read Leo's letter.

I don't know. Having since met Sebastian, I've been feeling rather happy lately. I don't want this stupid fight to ruin that for me. Which it will. It always does.

Damn it.

I just want to be happy for once, but apparently that's too much to ask for...

[jackiefontaine]

So. I read it.

As much as I love my brother, I really fucking hate him sometimes.

Fucking. Jerk.

Stupid, stupid, stupid family freakin' fright fest. Honestly. He never wants to fucking come to England, but as soon as he gets the chance to lecture me, he jumps at the chance to come. Of course, right? Because it's so much easier to guilt me into doing it in person. I could just burn his letters, right, so why not just jump across the fucking ocean so you can make me feel worse than I already do? God, my brother is just such a wonderful person, isn't he? How did I luck out to have such a spectacular fucking family?

Really, does he even understand what this could do to me? Does he even think about me? It's just so much easier for me to hate him. If I read that letter... I might just sympathize for him. I might empathize with him. God damn it, I don't want to read it because to hate him is so much easier than to love him. To love him just hurts so much. So fucking much, and I can't bring myself anymore pain. Isn't it bad enough that I live with this guilt? Why do I need to add on to it--?

Why

can'tLeoseethat?[/b][/s]

...Oh, God. I'm crying again. This is just... Oh, I'm so fucking pathetic. I'm such a fucking moron, and I just-- I can't --I won't --I... I am such a waste of a person. I don't have friends, and I don't even have a fucking family anymore. I'm just some pathetic, fucked up girl without a chance in the world of ever being anything more than a basket case. If I wasn't good enough for my father-- my own fucking flesh and blood --how am I ever going to be good enough for anyone else? Can't Leo see that? Doesn't he notice how imperfect... how stupid... how ugly... how horrible I am? It's pretty apparent to everyone else, why can't he see that?

I don't want to go. I don't want to--

No. I can't say that. I won't say that. I am better than him. I will not make the same mistake... oh, God, was it even a mistake? Maybe-- maybe he found peace. Maybe-- maybe I could find peace, too...

No.
No.
No.
No.
No.

I-I just... I can't. I can't even think about it anymore. Not when-- not when I think about... that. How could I even consider it after--

Well. It's not like anyone would care.

Except. Maybe...

No, who am I kidding?
Some kid who I've just met wouldn't give a rat's ass if I up and killed mysel--

No.
No.
No.

Ugh. I'm throwing this diary in the fireplace tonight. Burning these very thoughts.

If only they'd get out of my head.[/blockquote]

[jackiefontaine]

Onze
The Realization

I can't keep doing this anymore.

I have two choices:

[ ] I can not talk to Leo, and therefore not read the letter.
[ ] I can suck it up and read the letter, therefore shattering my entire existence.

If I can't talk to Leo, though... I-I might just... I wouldn't be able to... I can't just...

Why?! Why does life have to be so goddamned hard? Why can't my life just be a fucking bouquet of fucking roses? Why me?! What did I do? What did I ever do to deserve this?

If I don't talk to Leo, my life is over.
If I read the letter, my life is over.

Wow.
Fantastic set of choices there.

[/blockquote]