Spin For You [Peterick]

-42-

To Patrick, I guess,

Is that what I used to write? I can't even remember. It's been so long since I've written your name.

So, I just write to you? Not even about you, just to you? Okay. I can't believe I used to do this on a regular basis. Isn't it kinda creepy?

How've you been? Well that's pointless to ask, you're not gonna reply.

I've been good, actually. Two years is a fucking long time, man, lots of things have changed. I feel like I've changed.

I've stayed clean, which I'm pretty fucking proud of. It was difficult, especially at first. But, I got through it. I travelled around a load, which was fun. I saw a load of the stuff we'd been too busy to see when we were tour.

But I guess, if I'm gonna do this properly like I used to, then I gotta talk about my feelings and stuff.

The breakup was tough. Like, really, really tough. Those first couple months after, man, I felt like a zombie. Even when I'd left Chicago, left all the memories behind, they were still with me. I don't even remember anything about Italy, 'cause I was too busy thinking how I could've taken you there on our honeymoon.

It took me ages to stop thinking about you. I'd see a painting, and think I wonder if Patrick would like that, or hear a song and know that you could sing it way better. Everything reminded me of you.

But I still just kept on going. I couldn't go back to you, so I just kept moving forward. I even met someone, this dead gorgeous French guy, who kinda looked like George Clooney except younger. He only spoke a bit of English and I spoke fuck all French, and it sounded like a love story waiting to happen but he was kind of a dick, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, he was hot, and the sex was fucking mind-blowing, but he wasn't looking for anything serious, and he could see I was hung up on someone else. I ended up telling him about you, and I think he said something along the lines of don't worry, I will kill him for you. So just as a heads up, if you see an angry Frenchman, don't approach him.

You've no idea how hard it was not to call. Just to send you a text, an email, anything to stay connected to you. The closest I got was this one night in Paris, alone in a hotel room, and before I knew it, I was in tears just because you weren't lying next to me. I couldn't take it anymore, so I grabbed the hotel phone and got seven digits through your number before I realised what I was doing.

So I just kinda learnt to block you out. Thinking about you hurt me, yet it seemed like the only thing I could do, the only thing I wanted to do, but I stopped. I refused to let your name enter my head, I deleted Joe's texts about how you were doing before I'd even read them, so that I was completely cut off. And guess what, it worked.

I'm over you. And it's not like it was before, it's not a lie to cover up my infatuation, it's just true. I've been over you for a long time now.

I had a couple other relationships. One just ended, which was a shame, 'cause I think I really liked the guy, and he really liked me. Jonathan, his name was. He was nothing special, really, but then I didn't want anything special. He was sweet and kind and to be honest, he was everything I needed. I feel like I could've married him, and been happy. Like, I was content with him. But I guess things just didn't really work out, he didn't always understand me and I didn't always understand him, and I suppose we wanted different things in the end. I miss him.

I dunno, I guess it's at times like this that you think of your ex lovers. I'm not really lonely, just kinda deflated, maybe that's what made me write this.