I Guess I'll Go Home Now

He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes
Started making his way past two in the morning
He hasn’t been sober for days

John O’Callaghan sat bolt upright from his position on the sofa, a slight sweat breaking out on his forehead. He rolled off the couch, stumbling slightly to the bathroom and barely managing to open the toilet lid before he retched, emptying the contents of his stomach into the glassy water. He coughed when he was done, rinsing out his mouth and flushing away the reminder of what he was doing to himself; poisoning himself slowly, one night, one afternoon, one morning after another. It doesn’t matter, he thought bitterly, leaving the bathroom and slipping on his shoes. He gingerly closed the apartment door after himself, virtually collapsing against the wall of the empty elevator as soon as he was inside of it. It took only a minute for it to reach the ground floor, and his routine picked up again. He forced one heavy foot after another to move his body out of the building, heading down the too-familiar sidewalk that led to the only place that seemed like home now, the only place he could drown what little feeling he had left in something to deaden the pain. They were too happy to slowly kill him with alcohol provided he had money, and he wasn’t going to object to anything that would stop his heart from hurting as much as it did every time he let himself come to his senses.

Leaning now into the breeze
Remembering Sunday, he falls to his knees
They had breakfast together
But two eggs don’t last
Like the feeling of what he needs

And there, in a moment of clarity, it all shattered. John slumped against the brick, sinking slowly to the ground as his body wracked with silent tremors. Traitor tears forced themselves free and rolled down his face, leaving icy trails down his cheek as the frigid wind bit at his face. Sunday morning; he and Natty had been eating breakfast. Everything had been fine. His life was going great. She’d made omelets, a treat considering how hard it was to cook in the shoebox they called an apartment. But the size hadn’t mattered, the leaking faucets and weird stains on the carpet and the discolored spot on the ceiling and the threadloose comforter and the mismatched, patched-up furniture, none of it had mattered because Natty had been in there. And she was everything that made anything okay. She kept him going. She kept him sane. He loved her. She was his life now. He let himself become a crumpled mess on the ground as the realization finally hit him, sank through his fuzzy thoughts into the bit of sanity he had left. He needed her in his life if he wanted to live.

Now this place seems familiar to him
She pulled on his hand with a devilish grin
She led him upstairs, she led him upstairs
Left him dying to get in

He turned around. No more, he cried to himself. No more! He was done with drunken stupors, done with bouts of self-pity that led to blotting out his sorrows with one drink after another. He was out of money and out of time, and he began to understand what a sad state he was in as he rode the elevator in the apartment building back to his floor. He unlocked the door, kicking his shoes off as soon as he set foot inside and heading to their—his bedroom. His last memory of it wasn’t pleasant; it was amazing. Natty had forced them to the park, to watch the sun set, to see the flowers and the swingsets, to spend time together. They ran up the stairs to their floor, smiling and laughing as he chased her. She pushed open the door, tried to run, and then pressed herself against John as he picked her up and spun her around. They just stood there for a moment, holding each other closely, listened to their in-synch heartbeats before Natty leaned up and placed a tender kiss on his lips. He kissed back, and she smirked wickedly, breaking free from his hold and running to the bedroom. He chased her in, pushing the door closed behind him. Before she fell asleep, Natty’s voice drifted to John’s tired ears. “I love you so much, John,” she’d whispered. “You’ll always be my John.” she’d said.

Forgive me, I’m trying to find
My calling, I’m calling at night
I don’t mean to be a bother,
But have you seen this girl?
She’s been running through my dreams
And it’s driving me crazy, it seems
I’m going to ask her to marry me

John forced himself awake, bitter tears stinging at his eyes as he thought back to the dream that haunted him. Everything he’d said, everything she’d said, it was all still fresh, more painful each time he thought about it. It was rubbing an open wound raw and it wouldn’t stop hurting. He carefully got off the bed he’d managed to fall asleep on, moving to go sit bleary-eyed on the couch. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, staring at it for a moment before he pressed 2, holding down the key. The “now dialing” symbol appeared on his screen, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, free hand clenching tightly to the single pillow on the sofa as it went straight to voicemail. Hi, this is Natty. I’m really sorry I missed your call, and I’m really, really sorry if I missed a call from my John. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Thanks! His mouth went dry and the lump came back to his throat at the sound of her voice, the words she’d said. She hadn’t tried to remove traces of her John; at least, not yet. “N-Natty,” His voice cracked and broke and went very quiet, but he couldn’t care less. “Please. It’s John. Please turn your phone on… please listen to my apologies… please call me back… please, Natty, I love you. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. But please...” His trembling finger pushed end call, and he sat there, staring spitefully at the device supposed to let you talk to anyone, anytime, anywhere. Liar, he thought. He went back to the bedroom, sitting on his side of the bed, going to get his cell phone charger, just in case she maybe called him back. As soon as he opened the nightstand drawer, he regretted it; it stared up at him unrelentingly, the black velvet mocking him, matching his mood, sharing his grief, and then laughing at how close he’d come before he’d made such a life changing mistake. It was worth every penny he’d paid for it, and now it had no purpose. There would be no one else who deserved that ring; only Natty could ever deserve it. Only Natty.

Even though she doesn’t believe in love,
He’s determined to call her bluff
Who could deny these butterflies?
They’re filling his gut

“I thought you loved me!” she’d screamed at him, tears flowing freely down her face. “I thought you fucking loved me!” She’d fallen backwards, needing the wall for support as her body shook. “Natty, I do! I swear! I made a mistake, okay? I made a huge fucking mistake and I don’t want to lose you for it!” She just continued to cry as he continued to apologize. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I didn’t want it to. But… I told you… I’ll admit it… doesn’t that count for something?” he finished in a hoarse voice. Natty sank to the floor, her knees being scratched by the rough carpet, her hair disheveled, cradling her makeup-stained face in her hands as she lost it. “John… I don’t think I love you any more.” she whispered. His eyes clouded with tears and he raced over to her side, dropping down and wrapping her in his arms. She allowed it for a moment before she looked up at him with hollow eyes, slipping out of his arms like smoke. “Natty… no… don’t say that… you can’t mean that…” She stood up, fixing her hair, wiping away the sodden trails of mascara on her cheeks, doing it all with cold, calculated precision. “Natty… please… please…” Natty shook her head, walking over to the door, grasping the silver doorknob with a trembling hand. “I…” Her voice cracked with that single syllable, her whole frame still trembling. She opened the door, stepping into the hall. “I don’t think I can love you any more.” The door closed behind her, and John O’Callaghan sat there, stunned, broken, still madly in love as he watched Natalie Lorner walk away. He almost scoffed at himself as he remembered that had happened only two days ago.

Waking the neighbors, unfamiliar faces
He pleads though he tries
But he’s only denied
Now he’s dying to get inside

John left the bedroom, left the apartment. He went down the hall, one door at a time, knocking. Most doors would open; some didn’t. He was always greeted the same way. Do you know what time it is, they’d ask him. No, he’d reply. Half the time, the door would slam in his face. The other half, they’d play along, asking him what he wanted before they closed the door and left him aching for any help he could get. He didn’t know when or where she’d gone, and there had to be someone who could help him. There had to be. He’d go back and pound on the door again, falling to his knees, begging for help, begging for some kind of information about Natty. There was compassion in the eyes of some, bitterness, loathing, annoyance in others, but still no one helped him.

Forgive me I’m trying to find
My calling, I’m calling at night
I don’t mean to be a bother,
But have you seen this girl?
She’s been running through my dreams
And it’s driving me crazy, it seems
I’m going to ask her to marry me

Why had he told her? Natty would be here, everything would have been okay if he’d kept his big, fat, honest mouth shut. Thinking back, that reeked of irony; his honesty had been one of Natty’s favorite qualities about him, and it ended up driving her away. He realized he’d probably never see her again, and that was probably what hurt the most. Even if they could keep in touch, even if she really didn’t love him, if he knew where she was, that she was okay, he’d be fine. It would have been one-sided love, but she would have at least been somewhere in his life for him to keep loving her. Now, he was as good as in love with a ghost. He didn’t know where she was, what she was doing, if she was okay or even alive, if she was still in love with him. She’d come back after she left the first time, but shied away from him, jerking back every time he’d touch her as though she’d been prodded with a red hot poker. Natty wasn’t really there; she was a shell of her former self and he was to blame. He remembered with vivid clarity just how the apartment looked when he came back to find it empty. The dishes were stacked in the dish drainer, the pillow was lined up in the perfect middle of the couch, the bed was neatly made. All of her things were gone; her clothes in the closet, shoes, luggage, everything from the drawer of her nightstand, all of her makeup from the bathroom. Everything was immaculate, as was Natty’s way. They were total opposites, and he couldn’t help but love her for at least acting like herself when she left and broke his heart into thousands of pieces.

The neighbors said she moved away
Funny how it rained all day
I didn’t think much of it then
But it’s starting to all make sense
Oh, I can see now that all of these clouds
Are following me in my desperate endeavor
To find my whoever, wherever she may be

At the end of the hall, there was one door left. He stumbled towards it, vision blurry with tears. There was a little wreath of fake flowers, the tag beneath saying, “Welcome All.” John raised his hand, knocking on the door and forcing himself to stay upright as a small old woman opened the door, her white hair falling around her motherly face in ringlets. She blinked a few times, smiling up at John. “Well, it’s not often you get visitors at this time. Do you need something?” John just nodded dumbly before his legs finally gave out and he sank to his knees. She tutted, walking over to him, a sad smile on her face. “Have you…” he choked out, but couldn’t say anything more. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone and flipping it open. He passed it to the woman, who accepted it, slipping on her glasses from the chain around her neck. “Her.” whispered John. The woman studied the picture that was his background, then gingerly closed the phone and handed it back to him. “I did. Yesterday morning, I heard a sound in the hall, right outside of my door. I opened it to look, and she was leaning against the wall, crying, with a few suitcases dropped on the floor around her feet. I asked her if she needed help, and at first she said ‘no,’ but then I helped her take her bags into the elevator. She said thank you and I asked if she needed anything else, but she shook her head. I heard her say something about going home and John,” The woman paused, sliding her glasses off and studying his face. “You’re John, aren’t you?” It took him a moment, but he nodded. The woman smiled, placing a small hand on his shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze. “I’m guessing you made a big mistake,” John nodded again. “Whatever you did, don’t lose that one. She still seemed in love.” The woman smiled one more time before she headed back into her apartment, leaving John in the middle of the hall. He forced himself up. Going home. It took his tired, worn-out brain a moment to sort through that. Home. She always said she was home here. It was a bitter realization; because of him, she was leaving everything she had here. She hated where she lived before, and she always claimed that it was because John wasn’t there. That’s probably why she went back. He set his face, stepping into the elevator a few feet away and going to the ground floor again. He stepped out of the building, hailing a cab and climbing in. “The airport,” he said numbly.

He still loved her, and damn him if he’d let her get away. The drive to the airport was fast and he paid the cabbie, stepping out and heading into the mostly-deserted airport. He walked up to the ticket counter, waiting impatiently while the bored and tired girl behind the counter searched up a flight to Natty’s hometown. “Just one ticket,” he said, before she could ask. “No bags. No carry-ons. Just me. Just me.” She nodded, taking his credit card and swiping it. Probably only a hundred dollars left, he thought, almost more amused by it than anything else. They’d never had much money, but that was okay. He snatched his ticket, running to go through security and get to the waiting zone. He’d managed to catch a flight to her hometown that left in thirty minutes and had no layovers. Maybe someone really is watching out for me. The flight would be a few hours, but he couldn’t care. He made through security, emptying the contents of his pockets onto the conveyor belt. The small velvet-covered box looked out of place with the assortment of cards and change. The security guard opened it before letting it go through the scanner, and gave John an amiable grin at the sight of the ring. He was through fast enough and onto his plane as soon as possible. The flight would take too long, and he just hoped he could catch Natty in the airport, because he’d be lost in finding her after that. He fell asleep as soon as the plane took off, listening to the steady beating of rain against the plane and dreaming of catching Natty in the airport and everything was fine.

I’m not coming back (forgive me)
I’ve done something so terrible
I’m terrified to speak (I’m not calling, I’m not calling)
But you’d expect that from me
I’m mixed up, I’ll be blunt, now the rain is just (You’re driving me crazy, I’m)
Washing you out of my hair and out of my mind
Keeping an eye on the world,
From so many thousands of feet off the ground, I’m over you now
I’m at home in the clouds, and towering over your head

Natty stepped back into the airport after leaving her hotel. She’d stayed for the night since her final flight was leaving the next day. Just one connecting flight and I’m… home? she wondered. It certainly didn’t feel like she was going home; in fact, it felt like she was running away from everything that would have been home, that had any semblance of home. But what could she do? She was halfway back to her old “home,” and she’d run away from the man she loved. At least, had loved. Did she still love him? She wasn’t sure, but she wanted the answer to be yes. John was impulsive, carefree, nothing but love. He kept her sane and she was returning to a life she hated because she was too stubborn to accept that people were people, and people made mistakes. Maybe not too stubborn; what he’d done had intense ramifications, but that was okay. If she’d stuck with him, it wouldn’t matter. They’d have worked it out, they always did. She felt like her name was too short. Natty. It had been John and Natty for as long as she could remember, and it hurt to realize that she’d willingly cut them apart. She walked through the gate to her final flight. She stepped on the plane, walking to her seat and stowing her carry-on bag. It was a present from John; her favorite shade of blue, and he’d even gotten a tailor to embroider “J♥N” on the bottom corner. She could never get rid of that bag, and so it hurt her, hurt her so bad every time she saw it, but there was just no way in hell she could ever bring herself to throw it away. The initials, those were staying, too. They had to. Natty sat down in her seat, staring out the window as the plane took off. She’d said she didn’t, couldn’t love him. It had seemed the best course of action at the time, and she regretted it more than anything. The worst part? She was afraid. Afraid that he’d believe her, think she really didn’t want anything to do with him, and that was the complete opposite of the truth. She still loved him more than anything. She’d already forgiven him a thousand times over, but she was too scared to turn on her cell phone, afraid of what messages he might have left, or maybe that he wouldn’t have left any. Tears stung her eyes at the thought and she choked back a sob, staring at the clouds outside her window. But none of that mattered; she’d start again, find someone else to love, to live with, even though no one could ever even try to take the place of one John O’Callaghan. Oh well. Life goes on, right? Natty laughed bitterly to herself. Another three hours and we’ll find out, won’t we?

John hated waking up on planes. You always thought you could get up and walk around and then as soon as you’re about to stand, you see the “Keep Seatbelt Fastened” sign. Of course, that was the least of his worries. He let out a defeated sigh, leaning his head against the cool window. Just a few hours and his plane would land, and he’d be free to go search for Natty, and he just hoped he’d guessed right about where she’d gone. And finally, he landed. Of course it was too soon and not fast enough; he hadn’t had enough time to prepare everything he’d say, but he needed to get off that plane and find her, tell her something, tell her anything. He just about ran off the plane, looking around for Natty. If he guessed right, she wouldn’t be too hard to find. Her hair would still be bright red (“It’s more like crimson, anyways,” she always said), and he would be able to see her bag. He’d bought her that bag, and she used it for everything. It had been a present just because, and she loved it. He’d gotten their initials inside a heart stitched onto it. It was her favorite shade of blue, her favorite color. But John couldn’t see anything that looked like Natty. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, and climbed up on one of the hard plastic airport chairs. But he saw nothing. He angrily swiped his eyes, clearing his vision. Of course he wouldn’t find her. He sat down in the chair, shoulders shaking with restrained sobs. He didn’t pay attention to anything; the people around him, the noise of the baggage carousel starting, the intercom voice announcing the arrival of a flight. None of it mattered without Natty; nothing mattered without Natty. He decided to go see if he could catch a sooner flight with his round-trip ticket and go home already. He picked his head up, glancing around for the ticket counter, and he saw it right past a head of shockingly red hair. His eyes widened and he sat up straight instantly. Red hair. Ripped jeans. Bright yellow shirt. White-striped hoodie. Blue bag with embroidery on the corner. John’s breath caught in his throat and he jumped up on his chair, watching the girl walk away. It was now or never; it may have looked like her, but it probably wasn’t Natty. What were the chances? Did it really matter if anyone thought he was crazy for what he was about to do? No. It didn’t. Who cared if they thought he was crazy? He was about to find out if the woman he loved had just walked right in front of him. “Natty!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the whole area. Everyone froze, staring up at him. And so did the woman. She turned around, slowly, tears in her eyes visible even from how far apart they were. “I love you! I’m sorry!” Her whole frame shook, and he knew. That was Natty. That was his Natty. He jumped off the seat, pushing through anyone in his way to Natty. There was no consideration for what had happened before; they both impulsively wrapped themselves up in each other’s arms, whispering apologies, crying silent tears, promising it would all be okay. They knew it would. John pulled back a moment later, dropping to one knee in the middle of the airport and fishing the small box, a little worse for the wear, from his pocket. Natty held her hands up to her face, more tears, happy tears, flowing as John opened the black velvet box, showing her the ring. No one had to say anything. She just nodded, still crying, and John couldn’t help but cry, too, as he stood up, sliding the ring carefully onto her finger as though she might break apart into dust and blow away at any moment. As soon as it was on her finger all the way, Natty dropped her bag, jumping into his arms and kissing him with everything she had. It was all okay now. At least, it would be if it wasn’t already. Time stopped at that moment, and Natty pulled back, staring into John’s eyes, resting her forehead against his. They both just smiled. “Come on,” said Natty. She picked her bag off the floor, walking over with John to get her luggage. They grabbed her bags, glancing at their tickets: both round-trip. Somewhere, in the backs of their minds, they knew that finding each other again would happen. Even if it didn’t, neither one of them could stay away. They would have been miserable, shells of themselves if they were separated. They walked back to the ticket counter, exchanging Natty’s ticket to get them both on the same flight.

And John and Natty finally sat together in the waiting area for their flight, leaning against one another, whispering sweet nothings and exchanging kisses. “Let’s go home already,” John whispered. Natty just nodded, and they boarded their flight a few minutes later.

Well I guess I’ll go home now…
I guess I’ll go home now…
I guess I’ll go home now…
I guess I’ll go home