Hey You ⌲ Paul McCartney

12 // these dreams

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July 7, 1961 // 10:42 am
{ Soundtrack; These Dreams - Jim Croce }

"What are you doing here?" I asked him with wide eyes. He just looked over to my emerald-painted window and sat precisely at the ledge.

"Love, I wanted to make sure you were alright, of course," he said nonchalantly, as if he didn't just break into my bedroom. "You love Buddy Holly."

"I do."

"You have posters of him everywhere... Lining up and contouring every shape of your room," he announced. I just shyly looked around. What's the matter with Buddy Holly?

"Get out me house! You will never speak to me daughter... Go rendezvous around with that bloke, Lennon," my Dad shooed him away as if he were a fly.

"Oh, John... What a miscreant lad, a complex one, sure. His name was always buddy and he'd shrug and ask to stay," Paul sighed.

I stood there not knowing how to respond. He'd shrug and ask to stay? My Dad narrowed his eyes at him and he finally broke.

"Alright, I'll leave," he agreed as he slyly slipped a crumbled up piece of paper under my lamp on my desk and next to my book, Bonjour Tristesse. "Hope you get well soon," he flashed me a friendly, but impish grin. I smiled to myself as he hopped around the room. He obviously said something rather cheeky on that note of his.

"I'll go make some breakfast," my Dad insisted and I nodded, watching him close the door. I then picked up Paul's note - the same paper with my "fortune" on it, with the same sloppy handwriting. It said,

~

Once we were lovers,
but some how things have changed.
Now we're just lonely people
trying to forget eachother's names.
What came between us?
Maybe we were just too young to know.

~

I suddenly hated myself for falling for John. It was but a kiss that aroused our affection. It was solely and purely lust, merely a common and easily manipulated misconception: infatuation. I tried to make myself believe that it was just lust... Not love.

I took a deep breath, my thoughts lost in the last images of Paul as he had left my room.

I dropped my head into my hands, fingering around with my cast and hoping desperately that I could just rip it off, just like my undeniable feelings for John. I wish I could've told Paul I loved him back in '56 or '57, But when in reality, those years were not as euphoric and hunky dory as I painted them to be.

It was January, 1956 and we met on a bleak, rainy day and we were both bright-eyed 14 year olds with a dream: ditching school without getting caught.

He went to the Liverpool Institute for Boys while I was a student at the Liverpool Institute High School for Girls where talking to boys was so expressly forbidden that we would be let out early in order to be out of the way before the boys came out.

When we both found ourselves face to face with each other on Mount Street, we didn't know what to do, but we both knew what the other was doing.

"I'm sure we're on the same page, so why don't we go get some food?" He suggested with that coy smirk I immediately adored. I agreed and we found ourselves at a local sandwich shop, spending a few hours there laughing over our strict teachers and their clearly irrational views on life and how you're supposed to live it.

His reaction to my rant about that though, was just looking up to the sky and pointing to the slightest notion of the sun trying to break through the clouds.

I knew that after that one day I had fallen in love. But being at the tender age of 14, I knew it couldn't be that easy, because well, he threw me away like I was a piece of trash.

The next day I waited for him outside Mount Street. He never came out. It hurt... There was a twinge in my heart that would linger for the next miserable weeks. Everyday I would come home wearing a sad frown, trying to convince myself that he didn't matter.

After another week went by, I decided one day that would be the last day I would sit and wait for him. So I did and when he finally came out from the back of the pillar in the opening of the prestigious boys-only institution, his arm was locked around a girl.

Not only was his arm locked around her, but his whole body was folded into hers, snogging her until they were both inevitably breathless. I stood there - like a fool in the rain, watching as my pretentious school girl outfit soaked slowly by the seemingly endless drizzles.

I ran back home, sobbing quietly into my pillow every night since then. I tried with great amount of strength to keep it away from my Dad, but he found out... and he vowed to himself he'd never let that disgrace he calls a boy ever talk to me ever again... Which wasn't what I wanted. Paul was all I wanted.

I went straight to my notebook and flipped aimlessly though it, stopping on one.

~

Maybe in five years
our paths will cross again,
and I will tell you how desperately in love
I was
with you
and we can laugh at how
we broke each other's hearts.

~

And somehow, out of all my far-fetched dreams, I never expected this one to come true.

____

Yay thanks for reading, and also if you caught that David Bowie reference...

I love you.