𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter thirty-five: new year, new me❜❜

❧December 31, 1963☙

New year's resolutions were never my forte. I knew some chicks were crazy about them, but I wasn't ever big on it. I thought maybe I'd challenge myself and do it. Write one out and burn it with the lads. I'm sure they've never really thought much about it either. I like the history behind the resolutions, though; I always got a kick out of it. It started with the Babylonians, who apparently made some promises to the gods in hopes they would receive good favor in the coming year. They often did it to get out of debt or whatever troubles they had back then. But what could I change or want for myself this year? Money, fame, happiness, maybe some new boots, or even new love? A new love was ridiculous, and I needed more time. I mean, it feels like just yesterday I was holding onto my love. Sadly that isn't true, and I needed something to get me over this. Never in my life have I ever been so affected by a death, not even my own mother! That sounds entirely loony to say too! I wish I had been more upset by her death, but I think it processed easier since I knew she was going to die. I got over it too quickly but with good reason. I knew she wouldn't want me to wallow over her death; that was the type of person she was. Isaiah was quite different. I feel like he wouldn't mind me dealing with death the way I wanted to, but I don't want to be depressed any longer. Only now, it doesn't really feel like a choice. Anyway, what could I possibly want for myself? Well, I think this is quite an easy answer. I want everything to be alright. I want the lads to have lots of success. And finally, I think a new hobby would be great. So quickly, I found a piece of paper and a pen then wrote that down. God, how I hated my handwriting. It was god awful, almost worse than John's chicken scratch.

"Lads!" I hollered from the kitchen.

The room was silent without any replies. Christ sake, I hated when they didn't answer me. I stood up from the table with the intent to go to their rooms. I grabbed a few extra papers just in case they'd decided to write their own resolutions. With that, I left the kitchen and went towards their rooms. They only had two rooms which they split amongst themselves. I shared a room with John and Paul, sleeping on the floor with the majority of the pillows. I could never have too many.

I knocked on "my" bedroom door, "Are ye decent?"

John used a high-pitched voice, "Yes! Come in!"

I giggled under my breath as I opened the door. All four of them were sat on the floor playing their instruments. (Rings was rattling his sticks on the floor.) I came in and closed the door behind me.

"What's the paper for?" George queried.

I grinned while plopping down on the bed, "Funny you should ask tha', Geo. I've decided we'll make new years resolutions! How's about's?"

Paul pursed his lips, "Sounds fun then, Liza!"

"Yeah, how's about's!" John stood up from the floor and took a seat beside me.

I passed out the papers, but we only had one pen. I gave the pen to John first since he was right next to me and seemed to be the readiest. He sat in thought for a moment, thinking about what he might write down. I loved his concentration face; it was quite endearing.

"Ah-ha!" John raised the pen in the air, as well as his eyebrows.

"What is it?" I asked.

He turned his head and squinted at me, "Won't come true if I tell ya, eh?"

I crossed my arms, "Tha's only wishes, these are different."

He tutted, "Ahh, ye nosy posy."

He started scribbling on the paper, purposely folding it in a way so I couldn't see. I was extremely curious now! I couldn't stand things being kept from me.