Chapter 69

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I traced my fingers lightly across the edges of its frame. Though the book itself was probably sturdy enough to survive an air raid, I couldn't help but treasure how precious it was to me.
The only token of remembrance I had of him as he always was. Keeping it was like denying the reality of things, denying the change in our lives. Keeping it was showing weakness.

I settled the book down tenderly upon my bed, beside a pile of clothes I'd accumulated from my wardrobe.

I'd thought it over and over, and I'd managed to make a decision.
Eliminate the unnecessary problems in life after all.
I suppose there was no exception; if I was the problem, the problem had to be rid of.

I suppose that that alone wasn't entirely the reason for the decision I came to, as I had generally just grown tired of such an overdramatised lifestyle. And as much as I loved both Paul and John, I needed to let things go and start over.
I needed placidity.

I took an eyeful glance around my room.
Though I'd never acquired many entities over the years, those of which I had were now readily packed, making my room feel hollow and bare.
Some things I'd left for mother who I still wasn't sure would stay or follow me on my path, just old photo albums and school books, though I'm sure she wouldn't mind that I'd taken a few photos for myself. Nothing of which she'd miss,  just old pictures of John and myself, and then also some more recent ones of me with the Quarrymen, Paul, and John.

I took a deep sigh to prepare myself for the future which lay ahead, mentally ticking off each object on my bed on a checklist in my mind. And then, reached beneath my bed, having a feel around for it.

As my fingers brushed against the top, I managed to navigate my hand to its handle, drawing it out from beneath the bed.

"Mum." I called for her now that I was ready.

I just hoped she'd understand.

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