temporary fix || george harrison

33%

WATCHING THE world carry on whilst you live in this seclusion of existential crisis was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. I watched the turkey being served with liberal servings of gravy and slices of delicious Yorkshire pudding being doled out.

Chatter amongst the aunts, uncles, cousins, and other family members flowed easily across the large cherry wood table. It wasn't until my name was mentioned until I was awakened from my autopilot motions.

"Juliet, how long have you known John?" Aunt Mimi asked from the head of the dining table, and a collective hush gathered in anticipation to my response.

I looked over to my right to see the expectant and charming face of John peering up at me with reasonable question. I sent him a directed look that hopefully he could decipher; I am going to lie. I could hardly tell the difference between the truth and what was fictitious anymore.

"I met John sometime during university, and just recently heard of him around London. I'd half a mind to call 'im up for a kip." I gracefully spoke, reading the face of Mimi with careful glances.

"How nice of you to be such a positive influence to John. I'd never a girl of his in my home before." John and I nearly choked on our wine.

A few of their family members clambered to my aid but I waved them off with cheeks as bright red as the Christmas rose I'd brought over.

"Oh, John and I just get on as mates you see." I explained with a hearty sip of my red wine from Bordeaux. My eyes flitted over softly to John, urging to speak into our defense.

He cleared his throat, stifling back a laugh as he did. Cheeky git found the humor at my expense.

"She'd been recently comin' with us to recordings n such in London. Since we'd only jus' reconnected I thought it grand to 'ave her for Christmas. 'ave her over." John slipped up, and I formed a fist with both hands beneath the table top.

A few snickers here and clearing of throats scattered across the table, much to Mimi's bemusement. Great, she probably thought John and I were that type of mates.

"Ah, I see." And that was that.

For the rest of dinner, John tried to lighten the tension that had been formed between us by jokes and funny noises, even making a fool of himself by imitating a walrus with two green beans, much to Mimi's disgust.

I got to know a few of John's cousins with a few questions here and there; how are you? What do you do? Do you have any hobbies?

It was all a lie; the facade I created for myself was far more elaborate and fantastical than my reality was, back in 2016. I had recognize that my time here in 1962 was going to be ephemeral. My memory, my mark, was just an ink spot on the minds of the four lads I'd come to adore.

I'd be nothing but a flicker of laughter and perhaps a smile left in George's mind as he grew old. The real tragedy was that I knew how his story would end, and yet I could do nothing about it.

Kronos was right about one thing, George has to live his life. A life without me. A life influenced by spiritual guidance from his travels and experiences from India, an all consuming love with Pattie, and a son whom he could endow with the power of his music and his love.

Within all of that logic I could not find space for myself, as selfish as that thought even was to start with.

The rest of the Christmas Eve dinner continued on without so much of a beat, I remained mostly kept and lost in my own thoughts. I day dreamed of the man that I loved, who was so close within my reach, but yet so far away.