You're Not Even Mine to Miss [Fall Out Boy - Wattys 2014]

➽ Track Eighteen (Pete's POV).

Track Eighteen (Pete’s POV): We’re the new face of failure. Prettier and younger, but not any better off.

(May 25th, 2008)

‘Donnie,

You might’ve told me not to apologize to you, but I just want to say that I’m really sorry for what happened. I don’t know how I could ever let you forgive me for what I’ve done. You were one of those mistakes that I’ve made—but I’m not really complaining. I confess—maybe I’m in love with my own sins or something like that. And I do hope that you’d come back right away, though. Chicago isn’t the same without you here.

Anyway, James said that we’ll be starting to record soon, maybe by July. He’s planning to bring us to Hollywood to record the new album. Patrick and the rest of the band are trying to edit and finish all the songs up, and maybe we’ll be finished by June.

I hope you’re okay in there. I found out that it rains for about two-hundred days in a year in England, so good luck with the strange (and quite bipolar, like me) weather. Maybe you should bring a coat or an umbrella all the time. Keep in touch, please. Tell me anything that happens.’

I stared at the e-mail that I had typed a few minutes earlier. I kept on re-reading it, not sure if I should send it to her or not. To be perfectly honest with myself, I sounded like some sappy, pathetic and too hopeful boyfriend who was left in America. It sounded as if we were in some kind of long distance relationship—but were we? Was that the real meaning after sleeping together?

I erased the whole message that I had created. That was probably the ninth draft that I had done during the past forty-five minutes. I didn’t want her to think that I was really bothered about her being away from me. I tried to type again, hoping that the words that would be formed would sound better.

‘Donnie,

How’re you in there? How’s England? I do hope that you’re okay. We’re all fine in here, as always. Is it bad to tell you that I miss you already? No? Great. Okay, forget about that. I really miss you so much. And I’m sorry what had happened to us. I hope that you’ll forgive me.’

That sounded like a letter from a grade-schooler to his first crush after doing something bad to her, like maybe after giving her a booboo or something. God, Pete, stop being so pathetic and focus.

“Fucking bullshit,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand over my face. I then placed my elbow on the surface of the table, propping my chin with an opened palm. I stared at the screen of the computer again, reading the whole one-paragraph letter once again, before I decided to press and hold the backspace key until the screen was blank again. I was contemplating, whether I should send her an e-mail or not. I was so tempted on not sending her anything and just make my way to Patrick’s apartment, but I couldn’t. My body wasn’t coordinating with my brain. So, I just gave in.

Stretching my hands and fingers, I began typing again. This time, I would just tell her – straight to the point – what I really wanted to tell her. Beating around the bush wouldn’t help me, that was for sure.

Relax, Pete, I told myself, taking in deep breaths. Just be honest with yourself. Tell her.

And so, I did that.

‘Donnie,

I still want you back.’

Without any second thoughts, I then hit ‘Send’.

*~*

(May 31st, 2008)

‘Pete,