circa 1976
I should be happy, shouldn't I? Such an ungrateful bastard.
I mean, ...I've got it all! ...The success of Wings, a family, an absolutely breathtaking piece of land, even kids...
I don't need anything more, right?
It would be rather selfish of me to feel dissatisfied with my life, really. It's nothing short of perfect. I should have nothing at all to complain about.
So, why the Hell do I still feel this same lump in my throat? All I want to do is pull the bloody thing out with my teeth and move on, but it's just so difficult for some reason.
The world is practically bowing at my feet, "Give it up for the man himself, Paul McCartney!", and yet here I am... sulking in bed, thinking about no one else but him. Feeling sorry for myself and all, only because of him.
The man who retired from his craft, secluded himself halfway across the entire globe!
While I'm still here, hoping to meet with him again, one of these days. The man I grew up with.
Just to think if I met with the mysterious Beatle once again! The troubled Beatle. With John. The thought alone excited me.
Who am I kidding, though? Seriously? How delusional can I be to think that there's still any hope for us? For our relationship? It's been years since we've even spoken, let alone seen eachother.
It's easy to keep living in the past, though. It's much easier than living in the present, sometimes. Things were just so much more simpler back then. Back in the "good ol' days", when all four of us were making music like clockwork! Together!
John really was the best partner I've ever had, musically-speaking. I truly do mean that.
It was magic, what John and I had... What the whole entire band had! When we came together and performed on that stage, we were like no one else!
Ah... But with John... It was a bit different... What I had felt for him...
So, why did he go and ruin it, huh? Why did he leave us? Why did he leave me? It still boggles my mind! He took his lucky break and just... Well, he broke it.
I'll never understand anything that he does. Even after all these years, you'd think that I would've learned something!
I really do want to understand him, though. His side of the story. I'm not blatantly trying to misinterpret these things.
My dismal thoughts were soon interrupted by a soft knock on the bedroom door, causing me to jump a little in surprise.
"Er... Come in."
Linda, my wife, opened the bedroom door with a creak and peered inside to see me wrapped up in the sheets of our bed, staring intently at the ceiling.
"Paul. You haven't moved from this bed all day. You've gotta face the world at some point, you know that, right?" She sighed humorously as she spoke.
I threw my body forward and rubbed the sleepiness off of my face, "Easy for ye to say."
Linda rolled her eyes and sat down on the unmade bed, "Oh, quit being so dramatic, Paulie, what's the matter?"
"Nothin' much, really. Honest." I lied.
She gave me a knowing look, practically asking me to spit out the truth without having to say a single word. She was always able to do that with me, you know?
"...I've jus... been having... such odd dreams, lately." I explained reluctantly, "Been happenin' nearly every bleedin' night, now!"
She gave me a puzzled look, "Well, ...what happens in 'em?"
"It's a lil' embarrassing, but... they're mostly abou' John."
"About John? Is that all?" She asked, "So, what's the problem with that?"
"He... Uh..." I began to say, "Nothin', I guess."
I stood up off of the bed and headed towards the door, followed closely behind by the nagging words spilling from Linda's mouth. She never genuinely gets on my nerves, but right now, in this moment, it felt much different.
"Paul! Come on, now! Don't go and shut me out! ...I wanna be here for you. Please."
I whipped around quickly, burying all of my frustrations, and planted a kiss upon her soft lips. "I'll be fine, love. It's jus... everythin's got me a little caught off-guard. The stress from the upcoming tour, and all... It's probably gettin' to me."
And with that, I walked outside and sat on the front porch of our little house.
Where I live now is extremely different than Liverpool, which is where I grew up. Out here, we're surrounded by cute little farm animals and wide, open fields. Not many neighbors surround us at all. We're pretty far away from anyone else and... it's very peaceful. Meanwhile, living in Liverpool was like living in a zoo of people! Quite the polar opposite.
It's gonna be very difficult for me to leave this place once the American tour starts up next week. Going back to the screaming crowds and cheering people. I love performing, don't get me wrong, but when I look to my side and I don't see John standing next to me anymore... It still hurts! Six fucking years later and it still hurts! It's like a half of me was taken away and now I'm just bloody hopeless.
Doubt the bloke thinks of me at all, though, unless he's plotting my murder. The last time we saw eachother, we weren't on the best of terms. It was easier to keep our relationship a secret when we were so small, but when we really became The Beatles... it really put a damper on everything. Then when John got with Yoko, it eventually lead us to...
I stroked my fingers tirelessly through my hair as all of the dreaded emotions began to cascade into my mind once again.
"What to do..." I whispered to myself.
I reached into the inner-pocket of my jacket and pulled out a box of cigarettes, laying one inbetween my lips and lighting the tip of the paper. As I puffed in the smoke, some of it escaped my mouth and became thinner as it lingered around.
No, he wants nothing to do with ol' Macca, anymore. He hates me. I know he hates me.
After a few hours of spending quality time with my family and finishing up some errands, night fell upon us yet again.
I stared out at the window from my bed as I felt the shuffling of movement next to me. Linda was looking over my shoulder in solemn.
"Paul." She crooned.
"Yeah? Somethin' wrong?"
"I don't know, is there?! ...My God, Paul, if it's bothering you so badly that you can't even sleep, ...maybe you should..." Linda trailed off.
"I should what, Linda? Enlighten me, please!" I asked half jokingly, half curiously.
"Once we get to America next week... Maybe you could go and visit him in New York?" She suggested nervously. "Just for a little while?"
As the words fell off of her tongue, my heart began to race at a million beats a minute. "Linda, ye know what John would do if I jus... showed up, unannounced? Who knows? I might become the main influence on his comeback album!"
Linda laughed a bit at my last remark. She then shrugged her shoulders, "I mean, what's the worst that could happen, Paul? It's better than you losin' sleep everynight!"
I thought for a bit and my eyes wandered around the room as I meandered my brain for a response.
"Goodnight, Paul." Linda turned to her bedside lamp and pulled the cord to turn it off.
After what seemed like hours, my eye lids slowly enclosed in on themselves and I fell into a deep slumber.
...
"Love will hurt ye, Paul, but love will never mean to." John whispered into my ear, causing goosebumps to prickle across my skin. "Remember that, alright? I mean, do ye really think that I'd intentionally try to hurt ye?"
I wanted to reply, I really did, but I couldn't think of anything to respond with. I felt like my mouth had been sewn completely shut or something.
"Well, if ye've got nothin' to say now, maybe think on it. And when ye've got an idea, come and see me. Don't ye think we've got some things to mull over? How many years has it been since I've seen ye, again?"
In that moment, my eyelids shot wide-open and I was back to staring at the ceiling. There goes the dream again! What does it mean? What is he talking about?! That same line echoes across my mind everytime I fall asleep, but Christ, I can never think of the right answer!
I quickly hopped out of the bed and shuffled into my bedside drawer, yanking out a pen and a piece of torn notebook paper. My adrenaline was through the roof and my lack of sleep certainly did not help. I tapped the pen against my chin in wonder.
"So,
I'm off to New York. An old friend and I have a lot of unsettled business and it's been eating me alive.
I've tried my hardest to keep myself together, I really have, but I just—
I don't know what else to do! All I know is that this is my only choice, now.
I'll see you guys when you get to America. I'll ring you sometime, okay? I just can't wait another week. I love you all." I signed the note sloppily and left it on the kitchen table.
Well, either this will blow up in my face or... the latter.
And with that... I was on my journey to see an... Old Friend.
John.