Spin For You [Peterick]

-30-

Dear Patrick,

You've come back to me. You're mine again, and I'm yours, and we're so cute I wanna cry.

Like, I don't even know what to do with myself now. Everything's been turned on its head. Before, I had all this hate that I was channelling into everything, always planning the next way to ruin your life, thinking up insults I knew would get to you, counting all the different ways I could hurt you. Now, I'm thinking about what kind of flowers to get you in town tomorrow, what kind of icing you'd like on your birthday cake next week, and counting the minutes 'till I get to see you again.

And you've helped me so much. I feel like I'm making progress. There's been a few bad days, but I don't wake up and immediately want to die any more. It's only been a couple weeks, but I'm seeing things differently, as if you came along and knocked my vision into focus.

The best thing is, though, it's not all because of you. Some of the good stuff is because of me. I do nice things without complaining or even being asked, I throw open the curtains in the mornings like they do in the movies. I even got a plant. I don't know why it makes me so happy, all it does is sit there. It's one of those house ones which comes in a little pot and it has big shiny green leaves which stick out everywhere. But, like, it's an actual living thing that depends on me and it belongs to me and I have to look after it or it'll die. It's a big responsibility. I can do it though, it hasn't died, and I figured if I can keep a plant alive, I can keep myself alive too. And it's all come from me, this new enthusiasm, and that makes me kinda proud.

It was so weird, when I first began to feel like this. I wasn't used to it, it was like when you hear a song you don't know but you sort of do know it a bit because you swear you've heard that lyric before, and that chorus, but you can't quite pinpoint if you recognise it or not.

It happened so quick, too; when I woke up that morning in your bed, I knew something was different.

-

It took me a while to take in everything that'd happened the day before, the meeting and the shouting and then...well, you know better than anyone what I nearly did. And then the breakdown, the confession, the soul-searching. And the kiss. That bit was pretty good.

But I still didn't really know what was going to happen next. I mean, one kiss doesn't make up for a year of what was basically psychological abuse. And physical abuse, on more than one occasion. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up.

I was completely at your mercy. You could do anything you wanted to me; beat me to a pulp, kick me out of the band and never talk to me again, get me locked up for good, and I wouldn't put up a fight. I deserved all of those things. You should hate me more than anything else in the world. And yet there I was, under your roof, in your bed, listening to you humming softly to yourself while you cooked.

There was no way you could be comfortable with me, forgiveness doesn't come that easy, so I was pretty nervous as I opened the bedroom door, after a quick shower, and crept down the hall to the kitchen.

Hovering in the doorway, a felt a smile spread across my face as I saw you prancing about the room, looking adorable in jeans and a massive jumper. Your hair was all static, little strands flailing in the air like tiny hands waving at me. The thought made me snort with laughter.

Hearing my splutters, you jumped about a foot in the air and whipped around, almost dropping the spatula you had in your hand.

"Morning," I announced, grinning at you.