Love and Loss

Chapter 10: The Destination

The gate was just as deteriorated as the fences were. It was nothing but rusting metal with black paint peeling off it. Above it was a metal banner.

Cemetery. That was all it said. 

I was so close now. After all these years, I finally got here.

George, Paul, and I all came here through the years. However, unlike them, I had never come here alone. I did not want to be subjected to the emotional torture that a journey like this would provide, but I knew that I should continue.

I had let him down in many ways.

My promise to him was broken before I made it.

Anger was the last thing he had felt for me before he died.

Our last conversation had been heated.

I take in a breath, taking my glasses off and once again wiping my eyes.

Now was the time that I make it up to him, even though I knew that I could never fully repair the damage I had left. 

The squeaking that emitted from the gate as I pushed it reminded me of the sound that came from the hinges of the mansion's front door.

I had only left the mansion less than an hour ago, but it felt like an eternity since then.

I walked past the gate, letting it close behind me. 

There were grey stones all around me, all with names on them. None of them were his. I walked further into the graveyard, glancing at the headstones I passed.

William McMillen.

Nancy Hotkins.

Alex Breene.

All names of people I had never met. 

His gravestone was easy to spot. It was larger than most others, and was relatively in better shape.

My heart lurched upon seeing it. However, I did not stop walking. There is now way I'm stopping now, even with the guilt and sadness that was consuming me.

I only stopped when I was right in front of it. I got down on my knees to have a better view of the words that were engraved on it.

                                                          Richard Starkey

                                                July 7, 1940 - March 8, 1975

                                          A beloved man and a good friend.

That description was fitting, I supposed. He certainly was beloved. I stared at the words carved into the grey stone.

"S-so... I'm h-here n-now, Ringo..." I spoke. Speaking to a gravestone did sound rather foolish, but I did not care. 

I just hoped that he would hear me.

"R-Ringo... I..." I sniffled, "I'm sorry."

The warmth of the tears that slowly made their way down my face was a sharp contrast to the cold air around me. 

"I... I s-should h-have told them... T-this is all m-my fault. Ringo..."

I look up at the night sky. Shining stars and the bright full moon was all that I saw. 

"Y-you remember the night w-we spent together? I do," I stated after I lowered my head so that I could look back at the headstone.

"I did not lie t-to you, those nights. The impending future of our relationship was not on my mind. It was a-always on your's, wasn't it?" I clear my throat.

"Ringo... You were right. I was only caring about how Paul would think of me. I..." In that moment, I started to realize something.

"Y-you know? I did once think that love was s-something that could only b-bring peace. Pepperland was all I n-needed for me t-to believe it."

Pepperland.

"I s-sometimes think about how all those people are doing. Jeremy. Max. The Chief. Our alter-egos. It is unlikely that the news of your d-death reached them. Maybe t-that's for the best. I'm sure that Old Fred and Lord Mayor were surprised to see you, huh?"

I allow a small chuckle to escape my lips.

"I only w-wish that we got to see that place one more time. Pepperland was... no... is a much happier place than Liverpool could ever be."

I reach my hand out to touch the letters of his name. The stone was cold against my skin, but it did not bother me.

"I wonder. Did our alter-egos go through the same thing we did? I... h-hope they didn't."

I sigh.

"Ringo. I... I did not k-know that love could have m-more than one side o-of it. We both felt both sides, but you w-were the only o-one who showed that y-you did..."

A small cold breeze drifted over me. Its coldness, like the stone's, did not bother me. 

"I... never told George or Paul about it..." I moved my hand back down to my knee.

"It is p-probably for t-the best if I k-keep it that way. Maybe, when we all find ourselves together again, they will understand..."

I take in a deep breath.

"Ringo, I am sorry for what I did. I ruined your life, and I spent decades pretending that it never happened. I... do not know if y-you're looking down on me now, or even listening, b-but I j-just want to... to say..."

My breathing became uneven as grief and regret flooded me.

"I l-love y-you..."

After I managed to get those words out, I started to cry. 

All of the emotions that I had kept locked within me for years came flooding out. I lowered my head, allowing my tears to fall down onto the ground.

There was no one out here anyway. I could be as loud as I wanted to. 

Each and every memory that had come across my mind tonight all took their place in my head at once.

George and Ringo telling us about their relationship, Paul and I spending time together, Ringo telling me his secret, me falling in love with him, the promise I made, how I betrayed him, our break up, his phone call, the funeral.

It all clouded my mind.

Eventually, I was able to calm down. I did not try to dry my face as I looked back at the gravestone.

"R-Ringo... I wish t-that I told him. I was s-scared, b-but not as m-much as y-you were."

My voice was shaky. 

"I... I j-just hope t-that you f-forgive me..." I glance upwards.

Maybe, in those twinkling stars, he is looking down at me.

Moving my glance back to the headstone, I smile slightly.

"Ringo, I love you more than anyone I've ever met. I loved you back then, I love you now, and I shall love you for the rest of time."

I reach out to touch the stone again. After a moment of contact with the cold surface, I pull my arm back so that my hand is resting on knee again.

"I promise," I say as I close my eyes.

Silence was all that could be heard now. 

Suddenly, a rather warm breeze made its way past me.

It was then that I felt something warm on my hand.

Before I could open my eyes, a soft voice, one that I had not heard in decades, whispered in my ear.

"Johnny."