When I got home that night, I spent a lot of time ruminating my conversation with Eric.
Contemplating my limited options.
Considering the possible outcomes.
But it just wasn't that simple.
I waited by my windowsill again, anxious to see John return, pacing back and forth through my room. He hadn't been home in over a day, and I was determined to speak to him again upon arrival.
Soon enough, he finally made an appearance, just as the sun began to set, and the flickering street lamps began to switch on.
I felt a surge of mixed emotions run through my body, but a forceful magnetism of the most strength push me forward, so before I knew it, I was already halfway out my front door.
"John!" I called softly from further down the road as I saw him opening the gate to Mendips.
"Sam?" He slurred as he turned to search for me.
I stepped closer towards him, revealing myself under the dim lighting of a street lamp.
"Care for a quick chat?" I bit my lip innocently in an attempt to appear friendly; I didn't want him to feel as though he were under interrogation or something.
He nodded his head and beckoned me through the gate where we could take a seat in Mimi's back garden.
I shook my head with a laugh and grabbed him tenderly by the sleeve to sit him down on the curb in front of Mendips instead.
"I'm not the queen Lennon. I can sit on the ground." I teased, displaying a sweet smile upon his sunken face.
He didn't seem drunk, just tired.
"Look, I don't want to fight." My smile faded as I touched his face, brushing a single finger across the deep bags underneath his bloodshot eyes. "That's all we ever seem to do these days."
"Agreed." He placed a palm over the one I had to his face.
"You look a wreck by the way son." I cracked a smile to lighten the mood, ruffling his hair gently with my spare hand.
"Charming." He raised an eyebrow.
And for that split second, I forgot the reason I'd actually come to speak to him, as things felt so at ease. Until I looked into his soft brown eyes and it all came flooding back.
My smile faded, and I revoked both of my palms from his face.
"I just want to say that I'm sorry for everything. This mess we're in." I stared at him earnestly, yet meaningfully. "And despite everything I've said and done, I want you to know that I do still care about you John."
His allayed expression never twitched as he listened, if anything, softened even more so.
"Sam," he gave a weak smile. "If anything, it should be me apologising. After all, I've been the worst friend, and boyfriend in existence!"
"That's not entirely tru-"
"Sam!" He winced, his voice stern. "You know fine well it's true because you're right. You have done nothing but been there for me, and in return, I see that all I've done is either roughed you up or ignored you altogether. Not to mention the bloody temper tantrums."
He buried his chin into his knees immaturely, sighing deep breaths of assuage as he recollected all the bad he'd done.
"But John," I placed a hand to his back, rubbing it in circular motions soothingly in mollification. "You have a good side too, and I've seen him. He's lovely." I smiled.
But it seemed to be of no use in cheering him up.
"I don't like how things are always so complicated Sam." He sighed.
"Then simplify them." I whispered into his ear with a smile.
"How?" He groaned childishly.
"Eliminate the unnecessary problems in life." I shrugged.
He then rose from his compact state, sitting up properly beside me again with a smirk of curiosity upon his countenance.
"When did you grow up Sam, ay?" He chuckled lightly.
"Didn't have much choice when you decided to start shifting personalities." I said a tad more earnestly than anticipated. "It's called adaption."
His short lived lighthearted mood dimmed slightly, creating a more solemn atmosphere again.
"I could change back Sam. We can make things the way it used to be. Just you and me." He said distantly, mesmerised by the hair lying across my shoulder which he couldn't help but play with.
"If you could, you would have done so by now." My eyes dropped to my lap, where I distractedly began to draw on my knees like a child.
I felt like a child.
Especially around John, and I sensed he felt the same.
"Remember back in the days when life was simple," John began again with an immature grin stretching across his face. "When a young John and Samantha, nothing more than the age of 7, and so none the wiser, got into slight trouble with a certain aunt?" He smirked deviously, gazing into my eyes sweetly like the boy I was previously so familiar with.
"You mean when you smashed her window." I smiled.
"You were the one kicked the football to me! You set me up!" He laughed. "If that ball hadn't broken the window, it would have broken me with the bloody force you put into it."
"I think you're exaggerating a little bit John." I chuckled slightly.
It was only then I realised his arm was around me, holding me to his chest for a hug, and I couldn't seem to avert my eyes from them.
"Oh, sorry." He winced, beginning to withdraw his arm awkwardly. "Force of habit."
"I don't mind." I placed a palm to his arm to stop him, as his movements exposed me to the chilly night air, and I'd missed his warm embrace.
The smile returned to his face as he drew me closer, rubbing my shoulder with his thumb to warm me.
"I do miss the good times we had Sam." He said thoughtfully. "When I felt so comfortable with you, and before the fighting and tha'."
"But it's just not like that anymore." I said solemnly, causing a stale silence to occur between us.
Things had come a long way since then, since before the arguments and the dramas. And surely enough we could apologise and make up, but nothing could be fixed, as this was the person John had become.
I knew I couldn't get too attached to the moment, these rare scenes where I caught glimpse of what life used to be like with him. I couldn't build up high expectations that he'd miraculously change by morning, and that things would simply resume to normal, as the reality would be devastating when it struck.
That just wasn't how it was.
Surely enough John was being compassionate for the time being, but that's just how his cruel personality switch would work, as he'd leave just as I became attached again.
"You don't believe I can change do you?" I could feel him frowning above me, almost as though he could read my thoughts.
I considered sitting up to meet his eyes, but I knew that I'd never be able to work up the courage to say what I really wanted that way, and so stayed put into his chest.
"You always say you will John, but you can't change the person you've become." I sighed.
"You've never given me the chance." He replied defensively.
"Last night." I said flatly. "You didn't go home. I know fine well where you went, despite how well you knew how much I despise when you waste yourself."
He didn't say a word but remained like a statue in a fixed state. I on the other hand, couldn't bare to look at his face, and instead focused on the material of his worn tee, which looked very tattered and over washed. I played with the collar of his jacket contentedly, sliding my fingers along the sleek leather.
"You're right. You don't need me John." I smiled to myself.
I could hear the muffles of John's protests towards the statement, but was far too absorbed in my thoughts of the Quarrymen to properly process what was being said.
My mind was lost I suppose. Solving the problems at stake.
I hated how threatened everything had become.
"It's not like you even take my advice anyway John, so what does it matter?" I sighed, finally unfurling myself from his chest to meet his doleful, chocolatey eyes.
"Sam if this is because of everything I did-" He began with glassy eyes.
"I already told you John, you're forgiven. I'm not holding anything against you, I want a clean slate. I want to remember you as something to love not hate." I bit my lip.
"What?" He shook his head with a perplexed expression. "What do you mean you want to 'remember'?"
"Well," I shrugged. "Anything can happen. I mean, look at Julia-"
I saw him wince.
"All I'm saying is, that if anything were to happen, I want us to always be on good terms so that there are no regrets or guilt hanging over our heads." I pulled him in for a sincere hug, running my palms affectionately down his arms.
Once we pulled out from the hug, he looked at me in utter bafflement.
"I need you Sam." He pinched my cheek sweetly.
"No." I shook my head starting to rise from the curb. "You don't."
"Yes." He picked himself up also, clutching my wrist. "I do!"
I laughed lightly at how endearing he was. How his childlike eyes searched for the reassurance and comfort they craved from me.
"You've got Paul, Eric; all the boys!" I smiled, stroking the back of my hand from down his cheek to his shoulder. "Mimi will always be there for you. And Julia. Julia will always be watching over you John." I rose to my tiptoes in order to kiss his forehead, and stroked his cheek once more before parting from him, on my way back home.
"You make it sound like you're leaving me or something." He called behind me, a strain of desperation in his weak voice.
I smiled and laughed again heartily.