temporary fix || george harrison

CRESCENDO

ENDINGS were the easiest part of a story. At least, I'd always thought they were. To write a story, one must understand how it was going to end before they could even begin their journey to getting there. I always read the last few pages of a novel before even starting it, just to get a grasp on what I should anticipate from the story.

My sister said I enjoyed cutting to the chase without all the fuss of gnawing on your lip, wondering what would happen to the characters during the arc of the tale. I allowed Miranda to believe that- never once correcting her because I kept my own little secret about endings to myself. I wanted my life to be as perfect as those endings I read, all neat and wrapped up in a little bow. Not a single thread out of place. I wanted my life to end up like the women and their princes, happy endings all around. Endings gave me hope- seeing as I hadn't seen a single silver lining since the moment I'd laid eyes upon Jack.

I reconciled with myself that I'd have to admit to George about what I'd done during Christmastide, and recount to him all the times I bared my tell-tale heart to John without saying a single peep to George. Not a single lad in the merry group of boys I was currently in custody of knew the incredible measure of guilt I felt in the very marrow of my being. But then I realized, I may not even have the time to tell George everything. 

Once I rendered Kronos null and rescued my lover from peril's reach, the only way to set time and his life back into safety was to put myself back into rights nearly immediately. Send myself back to my time, and pick up where I left off in my own story. I thought of all the ways I could justify keeping myself rooted with George in 1963. One being the most treacherous- a total abuse of my female capabilities. It was diabolical, creating a child merely for the sake of staying forever together with my lover. 

But some irrational part of my mind screamed in delight - knowing full well that I couldn't force myself to make the right decision to leave George if I knew I was with child. His child. Dhani wouldn't ever be born, as he and I would never part. Perhaps George wouldn't even be influenced by Indian culture and covert to Hinduism and create all of his music that reverberates still in our world? Who knows what type of impact that would leave on the very fabric of our universe. 

I could be the very thing that prevented the Beatles' split, I could prevent John from consorting with Yoko. I could save Linda McCartney from her fatal diagnosis, I could save John, I could save Ringo from drug addiction, I could save my love from death. I could save George. 

Knowledge is power. I have all the knowledge that only a god could be endowed with and here I am - not revealing a single detail and doing my part for the sake of everyone else. I wish I had it in me to be selfish. Because my knowledge wasn't power. It was agony. 

Endings have always been my favorite part of the story.

Until I had to tell my own.