I'm Looking Through You // Mclennon

sorrow

     Several hours have passed since John and I's little argument occured. My stomach felt sick with worry and my head felt heavy with sorrow. Dried tear stains scattered down my reddened cheeks as I thought silently to myself.

     My hands were folded over my torso as I sniffled through my runny nose. I let out a deep sigh, looking down at the crack under the guest bedroom door. Light was shining through it except for in two spots in which I figure is where John's feet were planted. He wasn't standing there before, but I also figure he's worried about me after all this time I've been keeping myself locked in here.

     After a few seconds longer, I finally heard his knuckles knocking against the wooden door.

     This moment seemed familiar to me. It was almost like deja vu, honestly.

     When I first came to visit John just a few days ago, I felt exactly what he's probably feeling right now. I was outside of his apartment, knocking my shakey knuckles against his door, anxiously awaiting some type of response from him, if any at all.

      Sure, our first meeting didn't go so hot, but we got better... With understanding. And time.
I just need to understand.

      "C- Come in." My voice cracked as I spoke, probably from the crying.

      The door opened and the light from the hallway poured over me.

      "Macca..." John said in a low tone, causing my stomach to turn,

      "I'm done wi' the fightin'. We've been fightin' for too long now, and frankly, I'm... fed up wi' it, to be totally honest." John paused,

      "Pretty soon, there'll be nothin' left of ye or me... We can't keep hatin' eachother over the past! Over things we did when we were just kids!"

       I looked up at the man standing over the bed and gulped, "...I know that, John-" He cut me off.

      "I know what I did to ye back then was wrong. I know it! Back then, I did awful things left and right! To damn near everbody. Wi' Cynthia, wi' Brian, wi' ye... Hell, even wi' Yoko! But I'm willin' to change! I'm willing to give up... everythin'."

      What he was saying was sweet, but hearing her name stung my ears.

      "I- I wish we could go back to Paris, Macca. Things were jus so much more simple back in those days. Paul, I wish we could run away from all of our responsibilities, again. But... it's hard to. It's so fuckin' hard to. We've both started families and lives and all that... But damnit, I still love ye! And I know ye still love me." John took in a deep breath and sat down at the edge of the bed. I stayed curled up in the blankets. "...Ye can't deny it."

      "Paul. Ye know that ye came for a damn good reason. Sure, we were ripped away from eachother, temporarily, but our reunion didn't happen on accident! ...I guess what I'm tryin' to say is that... I can't lose ye again like I did before! Yer not gettin' away from me that easy." That last sentence, John chuckled over his words to lighten the mood. "I just got my boy back, Macca. Don't leave me, now..."

      I finally spoke up, "Thank ye for sayin' that, John... See? I told ye that yer more clever than ye pretend!"

      John rolled his eyes and scooted closer towards me, "So?"

      I sighed and looked up above us, "There's jus... so much shit plaguing us. Like ye said, it's hard to be together. I mean... What would I tell Linda? What would ye tell Yoko?"

       John winced at those questions. It's almost as though he pretends Yoko will never come back. Almost like he forgets Linda even exists.

      "I'll... do whatever it takes to get ye to stay here... wi' me... It'll be a bitch to do, and the press will go mad when they figure out that we're suddenly livin' wi' eachother... but it's worth it. That's what I think, anyroad."

      I was in pure awe. How was he always able to make me feel this way? I always melt like ice in his hands, no matter what mood I might've been in previously.

      No words could ever explain how I feel towards this man, not right now, especially. I practically shot up from the covers and leapt onto John, pulling him into a tight embrace. He hugged me back as I sobbed a little bit into his chest, I hate to admit.

       Once the tension between us settled, we laid there on that bed together, our limbs entangled with eachother's and we talked out what our plans for the future could be. To get away from our pasts and our worries and to just be... John and Paul again. The Lennon-McCartney partnership. We promised to talk with our wives and to hopefully be able gain custody over our children, somehow. Everything felt like a dream. Like a complete whirlwind. It felt so impossible and yet so perfect, like somehow, everything is bound to work out. I don't know how, though.
I feel like this plan was destined for us, predetermined, maybe. And nothing can get in our way at this point.

       Deep down, the two of us know damn well that this won't be an easy task to pull off. Not in the slightest. No one will understand it. Our relationship was a secret for nearly a decade meanwhile the Beatles blew up all over the globe. How could any of us explain that?

       As I thought about this, John noticed the worry washing over me, again. Instead of us fighting again, though, he placed his index finger over my mouth and slid it over my bottom lip. I stared up into his loving eyes and my frown slowly faded into a smile.

       "In the end, everythin' will be okay, Macca. As long as I'm right here beside ye." John paused before planting a peck on my lips,

       "Grow old wi' me."

       I'll never forget those words. They just seemed to marinate on John's tongue, causing him to drip diamonds.