Before, P.S. I Love You Fanfiction

Chapter 1

Gerry... Gerry, Gerry, Gerry.

He has come into my life so suddenly and has become so apart of everything I do. He's everywhere yet nowhere at all.

I miss Ireland. I miss the love and the passion and the making love and the making passion. The drinking, the singing, sharing a bed with a man. Sharing a bed with Gerry. Ireland was my last stop on that trip. I stayed a month longer because it's just so unfair to leave something so complete. But all good trips must come to an end, and my mother would've come after me if I hadn't.

We've decided to keep up with each other; it actually wasn't my idea. He's so romantic, the kind of guy who lights the candles. He's so special... Yet, he's an ocean away now.

How long has it been? Twenty-four hours maybe? I can feel his fingers combing through my hair, brushing across my lips before giving me the long, sweet kiss of goodbye.

I whisper into my pillow over and over, "I won't forget you Gerry, I won't forget you."

But in my mind, swirling images of other Galway girls getting lost in national parks with him brings hurt and anger. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

I wish I could have had that rainy return that you see in the movies. But it's so sunny here and so incredibly hot. The humidity is swirling around my head giving me an extra poof to my hair which wouldn't anything to complain about if it were the 80's. But I saw the new edition of Vogue. Sleek, sexy, flat.

Knock. Knock.

"Oh God, mother. What?" I yell.

She comes into the room. "All right, I made you some soup if you're hungry."

"Why would I want that?" I'm irritated, and I know it's not exactly fair. But I've been back for less than four hours. "It's so hot outside..."

"Well, it's there when you get up. I'm going down the street to open things up." I hear the door close. I've managed to not look at her the entire time. The door creaks open again, and before I can yell, she turns the light off and closes it again.

I sigh and close my eyes.

The ringing of the phone jolts me awake.

"What?" I mumble when I see the time. 4:30? "Hello?"

"Hello?"

Gerry.

"Gerry!" I sit up-right in bed.

"I know it's early there, but you promised you would call when you got in. I started to worry, you know..."

I hadn't called because I read somewhere it would seem to eager. Now, I just feel dumb for causing him to worry like this.

"Oh yeah! I'm sorry. I was just so tired," I hope he doesn't think I'm a complete asshole.

"Don't worry." I can hear the exhaustion in his voice. How long had he been waiting? An image of him sitting near the phone flashes through my mind.

"I really am sorry..."

"I said don't worry about it, baby. You're okay. I'm okay. Let's just talk." His voice in my ear lulls me back to my pillow.

"Okay..." I whisper.

"Were you sleeping?" He asks.

"Yeah... It's four-thirty here, Gerry." But I do want to stay awake.

"You know, we can talk tomorrow. Or later, or something. This fucking time difference."

"Yeah, it's a difference," I murmur. "I can still talk though. Don't worry."

"No, I don't think so. You need to sleep. You can call me back when you're up. Okay, love?"

I sigh. "Okay."

"Good night." He whispers.

"Good night," I whisper back.

I'm angry. I don't fall asleep again until 7 and wake up at 12:30. My head feels like it's full of cotton candy. I stumble around the apartment looking for food. The soup from last night is still on the stove with the burner on low. I roll my eyes and turn it off not looking forward to breaking all my nails when I scrub the pot later.

After I find coffee and a bagel, I sit down to phone Gerry.

The phone rings and rings until I hang up.

"You know," my mother says as she bustles into the kitchen. "It's not polite for men to call at strange hours."

"Mom, he's in Ireland." I retort.

"I'm assuming they can still do Math in Ireland." She pours herself a cup of coffee and sits down across from me. "Okay, what's going on?"

I carefully respond, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you going to do? He lives across the world, Holly. It's not like you two can go grab a coffee." She gestures to our cups.

"Mom, you haven't even met him, and you're already being negative about this situation. We need to be positive."

"What about Timmy?"

"What about him?"

"He was nice."

"Mom, you knew we weren't going to stay together."

She sighs. "I just don't think you're prepared for this. You just turned eighteen, Hol. It's not like you've had much experience before."

I give her a look and stand up. "I'm going back to bed," I call down the hallway.

2 Weeks Later

Mom is standing at the stove while I wave a letter in her face. "You tried to hide this from me?"

I wave Gerry's letter in the air so fiercely, an edge starts to rip. I had found the letter sticking out of her purse. "I can't believe you! I bet you've had his number blocked, too."

She stops stirring and looks at me.

"You did!" I pace back and forth. "I'm going to call him anyway no matter what. I'll just use a payphone."

"Well, good! I can't afford to pay for long distance phone calls." She tosses the stirring spoon aside and stares me down.

"What about Ciara? We call her all the time." I point out.

"That's because your sister is in God knows where Africa on a mission trip. She's not fooling around with some guy thousands of miles away. You don't know what he's doing, Holly. You don't know how many American girls he's been with. This isn't healthy for you!"

"What's not healthy? The fact I met someone I really lo-like?" The slip-up had been just enough.

"Love? Love? You don't even know what love is," she pours herself a glass of wine then offers me a glass.

I stare at it until she sets it down on the counter.

"Fine." She says. "Do what you want. You're eighteen. But, I warning you, Hol." She gives me one of her looks before sitting down at the table to sort through the bills.