Missing You...

Chapter Five

Saturday, 29 November 1980

"It's time." Paul muttered pulled his scarf tighter as a cold wind circled him. He glanced upwards at the dreary, grey sky. Little snowflakes were beginning to float down from the heavens. Paul couldn't help remembering the time he had traveled to the Austrian Alps to film a movie. "That was one crazy filming session." Paul chuckled to himself.

Paul was waiting outside of the airport, waiting for his flight to be called. He couldn't wait to board the plane, recline in a comfy chair, and fall fast asleep. He hadn't had much rest since the night of his emotional outburst; he didn't want to risk dreaming about something that could cause him to act up again. Now Paul was wondering if his decision had been a good one or not. He examined himself in his little pocket mirror. Paul looked like a zombie - big, black rings under his eyes, his face was white as chalk, and his hair was a fright because he hadn't been too bothered about brushing it. Paul sighed and shut the pocket mirror with a snap.

"What am I doing to myself?" he muttered. Paul glanced around at the crowd surrounding him, full of people waiting to board their planes. There were all sorts of characters, mostly families with lots of children and absolutely bawling babies. But there were also a lot of solo fliers like Paul, standing around by themselves, looking lonely and lost.

Paul thought about talking to some of these lonely people. He liked seeing if the public still recognized him, but thought better of it and stayed where he was. An announcement came over the loudspeaker saying that passengers could start boarding. Paul picked up his suitcase, straightened himself, and took off down the terminal. 

* * * *

It was late afternoon on the plane and the long distance had taken its toll. All the passengers on the flight had fallen asleep and were snoring softly - except for Paul. He was wide awake, an anxious feeling rapidly engulfing his mind. He was too worried to even close his eyes. Paul sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt something there. He pulled out the special photograph of John. Paul had completely forgotten he'd taken it with him, but now it was oddly comforting. Flying alone wasn't something Paul did often so it was nice to see a familiar face.

"Hi Johnny." he whispered, careful not to disturb the sleeping people either side of him. "I can't wait to see you when I land in New York. I wish I knew if you feel the same way."

The photo didn't reply. 'John' just kept on smiling, but in the dingy light of the airplane cabin his smile seemed softer and a bit more sympathetic. Paul grinned, remember all of the times that smile had been the only thing that could brighten his day. Strangely, it still felt that way. Paul had recently felt down and depressed, and he had no idea why. Now that he had a smiley photo of John in his pocket, he felt like he could take on the world. It was all very bizarre, especially when Paul thought back to all the terrible arguments he and John had experienced over the years.

"What's wrong with me?" Paul muttered, "Why do I feel like this? I can't be attracted to you, John, can I? It would be too weird, and besides, you're married." Paul paused to think for a moment,  "At least... I think you are. Oh wow! If you weren't maybe we could get -"

Paul realised what he was saying and shook his head from side to side, as if he'd been swimming underwater. He thought the situation over in his head, disgusted with himself for letting the very idea pop into his head. It was a waste of time anyway, because Paul knew (or rather assumed) John was as straight as a board and wouldn't ever consider going out with him. 

"Unless he's changed." Paul thought. "He was always a little bit queer towards people, but half the time he was joking, wasn't he? Yeah... that's probably it."

Paul sighed with relief and settled himself back in his chair. He placed his hands over his stomach and stared upwards at the ceiling, wondering what he would do when he saw John again. They had been apart for ten years and had never bothered to get in touch - until now. 

"Who knows?" Paul mumbled, his eyelids drooping, "Maybe John has changed. Maybe we could get together and talk things over."

He took a final glance at the photograph in his hand. 'John' was still grinning that cheeky smile of his, his brown eyes glittering with laughter and fun. Paul gently stroked 'John's' cheek. He couldn't wait to land in New York and find his best friend again. He cautiously folded the photo up and placed it in his coat pocket, careful not to crush it. Paul thought about what the meeting would be like; he thought about what John would be like. He was certain to have changed in some way. Paul didn't know how. He still thought of him as the long-haired, bright-eyed, smiley twenty-four year old he'd grown to know and love.

"I hope he still thinks kindly of me." Paul muttered. With a tired sigh and a yawn, Paul snuggled further down into his seat, shut his eyes, and fell asleep.