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I do not know where broken hearts go, or how many chains are wrapped around one's chest after they leave. I do not know the horrors of war plagued dreams,but I do know the empty feeling that engulfs you when you watched a loved one die. I know the sting of uncried tears when you come face to face with a person you thought you knew. A person you discover is now a stranger with a familiar face. And I do know what it's like to grow up too soon. To leave behind your childhood because your sisters or your brothers are experiencing a different life then you and you are afraid of being left behind.
I would be lying if I said I never thought about Paris. Not the Paris with Finn, but the Paris where I lived with my sister. That Paris is like a dream. There was no whore kissing my husband. No other Shelby funerals. It was just me rediscovering myself. One might say I was living in a dream. How I wished I could go back to that. That carefree life. Then again all happy things must come to an end. All dreams must be woken up from. And worst of all our realities must be faced. Reality is cold.
"Sometimes it feels like you stare right through me," I speak noticing how empty Finn's eyes are. His face is starting to cave in at his cheeks and I can't remember the last time I saw him eat. His diet much like Toms is cigarettes and whisky.
"Sometimes I'm not sure if you're really there or if I've gone mad," Finn whispers. "I have these dreams that instead of Fran it was you...and lately I can't seem to grasp reality I know Tom sees Grace. I've heard him speak to her."
"I'm really here Finn. See?" I kiss him gently pulling his hands up so they can rest on my hips. "I'll be here until the day I die."
"What if I don't want you to be?" His voice is still quiet and his eyes are so hollow it feels like I can see the thoughts running around his brain. We're dancing in the rain, not even fifteen. Our shoes have been kicked off and we are singing a song neither of us really know the words to. That was the day I knew it was him. It had always been him. "I don't want you to become just a part of my imagination. Do you think Ada is right?"
"About what?"
"About me being him. About me being just as bad as Tom." A silence fell over our shared bedroom as I thought about the boy I had known since birth. There we were in Pollys garden. Finn was eating worms and I was squealing in discussion. Suddenly we are a few years older and Finn was on a date with a girl I didn't know the name of. Then he was down on his knee in front of me. Is this what it felt like to have your life flash before your eyes.
"Thomas Shelby wouldn't have put flowers on my doorstep to apologize for eating worms," I spoke softly my hands floating through his hair. "Thomas Shelby wouldn't have blush as hard as you did the first time he said I love you. Being Tom isn't a death sentence. Not like we think it is, but Finn what I adore most about you is your your own person. You have always been and always will be."
"What if we die because of the life I've pulled us into?"
"Then we die knowing we lived our lives the best we could. Side by side. Jo and Finn. Just like we planned when we were little." I could still feel the Sting of seeing him with another woman. I could still hear my voice echoing against my brain from when I told him I hated him. It would be a long time before I shook that, but right now I also saw my childhood best friend. The reason I smiled. The person who pulled me out of bed when Fran died. "Like I love you Finn." I promised kissing him gently.
"And like I love you." He replied a spark finally returning to his eyes. There he was. My finn. The man who I would help get through anything and everything.
