Dear Sean

Five

Paul was special. He wasn't just another mate. I knew that with him, things were different.

Closer. Closer.

"John." My name tumbled off his lips and I whispered into his neck, fingers twisting and tangling is his bloody lovely hair.

I'd known him for a while then, and I was so sure we were going to last forever. Everything else might go; the band, rock 'n' roll, the people around us, but we would be in the eye of the storm, we would be a fact: Paul and John. John and Paul.

I nuzzled into his neck and felt his breath come out in short puffs. Now my name had become a chant, a mantra; he sounded like he was out of air but still saying it out of his beautiful lips: "JohnJohnJohnJohnJohn."

The beginning was blurred and chaotic; playing shows all night, getting a few hours of sleep, tea, more tea, doing everything to stay up, only a few hours of sleep and everything revolved around Paul.

"Paul. Paul, I love you," my voice suddenly rang out.

"Love you too," Paul whispered, raking his fingers down my sideburns, tracing my nose, and pecking at it lightly.

We were spending all our time together. But that, Sean, is personal.

Hamburg was like a dream, or a nightmare: everything on fast-forward, every day pure exhaustion, but I had Paul.

Sometimes all you need is the right person to help you through tough times.

We left Hamburg eventually, to go back to Liverpool. Nothing lasts forever, and though it's hard to accept sometimes, you have to keep living your life. Always keep moving forward, Sean.

Mimi was glad to see me when I arrived.

"Well? Have you gotten a real job yet?"

I was also glad to see her.

"Fuck off."

"Language, John! I won't have you disrespecting me!"

The next few days we were back to playing the clubs around home. We'd play with the other bands and we lived a quieter life, now that we were back to our homes.

Then it was my birthday. Daddy turned 21 in 1961 (a very long time ago, I know). For my birthday present, I got £100.

"Shit, John, a hundred quid! That's a bloody fortune!" Paul said, his voice hushed in awe. "What'll you do with that?"

"Dunno."

I actually had a very clear idea, but I wasn't sure how to begin telling Paul.

How would it sound, how birdish, how soft of me to ask him to come to Spain with me, like a bloody honeymoon?

But yet there was no better way to spend the money than to go somewhere with Paul, explore new places, and best of all, be alone for once.

As crazy as Hamburg was, we were living together, it was never difficult to get a stolen moment without being interrupted. Now with the families and home life getting in the way, Paul was just someone I saw in passing or played gigs next to, only to see him go straight to his house, exhausted.

"Spain. Do you like Spain?" I asked. I mentally cursed for sounding so stupid, but Paul only gave me a quizzical look.

"Well, I don't suppose I really have an opinion about Spain. Why?"

"Let's go, just the both of us on a trip."

Paul's eyes widened. "Really?"

Uncle Paul and I decided to use my birthday money to go on a trip, just the two of us.