Got to get you into my life

Thoughts

There I was, sitting on my bed and staring at my poster that I had bought a year ago for the millionth time. It was of the boys standing on the rooftop in 1969 as they played their last performance as a group. Paul's beard was always so attractive in that photo of him. The thoughts of wanting to meet my favorite band was once again wrecking havoc on my imagination. The things I would say, the way I would say them, and in to which Beatle. Of course in my imagination they had all the reactions and replys that I wanted it to be. A whole conversation going my way between Paul and I was playing in my mind as I began to get ready for bed. I slipped out of the days outfit and put on a thin white shirt with comfortable grey pajama bottoms. Usually I preferred sleeping in the nude but that night I had young relatives sleeping over and the thought of them barging in at any moment made me rethink my sleeping arrangements. Turning on my fan and finally laying down, I pulled the covers over me and thought. What I would give to know you, Paul.

I smiled and somewhat laughed at how ridiculous I was to even think of such things. To think of meeting all of them before and during their prime. But I wanted it to be true so bad, with every part of me. I wanted to know if all the things I had imagined were as good in real life. However, deep down I knew that they weren't. Reading how the boys had treated their families and wives broke my heart. They were just like the men in my family that I despised and yet in my fantasies, they were none of that. But then again, it was just a fantasy. I thought that maybe if I knew them during the 60s, would have I overlooked that? Or hated them? My mind was racing over useless debates that I would never get to have any evidence to support. And still, I thought it over so carefully as my heavy eyes began to close. My sleep slowly taking over until I heard a horn blast.