Kat sat in silence at her kitchen table, holding her head in her hands. She was on her own, with a calendar sitting in front of her. It read 22nd January 2010. Two years already. Two years since.. She lay her head on the table and once again, as it had done last year and especially the year before, a realization thought came to mind. Patrick Verona, her Patrick, was gone. And he wasn't coming back.
I'm waiting,
for the perfect time to call you back
cause I remember saying,
I don't wanna know the truth,
can't handle that...
It had been nine or ten years since Kat had left Seattle to go to Sarah Lawrence. Those years had been the best of her life but, although she would never admit it for anyone, part of her missed home. She missed her dad, Mandela, Bianca... and Patrick, especially him. No one ever understood her like him. She remembered a rare scene that had happened about a week before graduation. Kat Stratford had never been the over emotional type, but still she found herself crying on the school stairs. Even she was clueless as to why. The place was deserted but it was as if she'd sent out some kind of signal because seconds later someone sat beside her. Brown eyes, wavy brown hair ; Patrick. He made no attempt to try and comfort her, he knew better than that. He just let her cry until the tears stopped and then stroked her hair , as he had done at Bogie Lowensteins party while she got sick. He might've even made a smart but humourous comment in that smooth Aussie voice of his but Kat didn't remember. She was too upset at the time and even she didn't know why.
Kat knew the reason now. It was never going to work with them, with her on the other side of the country and him persuing a career as a mechanic. Both knew this, and both agreed to seperate but remain friends.
And I tried to
just forget you,
but I don't know how,
if only I knew..
It's written all over your face,
Its such a painful thing to waste
Tell me now,
where do we go?
now the futures not so clear,
I can't believe we've ended here
where's the world that doesn't care?
maybe I could meet you there.
The years had flown by at Sarah Lawrence. Kat studied music and journalism and true to her word, started her own band. She dated the drummer briefly, there had been a couple of guys since Patrick but none lasted long. None of them had suited her like he did. She remembered when he asked her to the prom and she questioned his motives, causing him to erupt angrily. She had been mad too, but also upset. Patrick had seen her like this, had seen this vulnerable part of her which she didn't allow anyone else to see. That was what made him different.
I'm sorry,
If I slagged you down
I meant no harm
but when I heard the stories,
I said things I didn't mean
should have stayed calm.
But sadly, you got angry,
and it breaks my heart,
youre so mad at me..
She returned to Seattle for christmas and other occasions. She had kept in good touch with Mandella but unfortunately not Patrick. It was probably easier that way. One thanksgiving her dad informed her that Patrick had gone back to his native Australia, looking for a job. Kat tried to hide her disappointment but it was clearly seen by Bianca and Cameron, who sat beside her. Bianca squeezed her sisters hand under the table and Cameron smiled supportively at her but neither worked. For all she knew now he could remain in Australia and find someone new, move on with his life. Forget about her.
It's written all over your face,
Its such a painful thing to waste
Tell me now,
where do we go?
now the futures not so clear,
I can't believe we've ended here
where's the world that doesn't care?
maybe I could meet you there.
Kat moved on with her life, became a journalist and book writer, as well as singing part time at a local club. She loved her job. Had bought a nice house in the suburbs and was a mother of two kids, Sylvia and Heathcliff. Her sister ended up married to Cameron, which she was happy about because she knew Cameron would treat her right but at the same time felt a bit envious. She still thought of Patrick, wondered what he was doing with his life. Then one day she recieved a call from Mandella, who still lived in Seattle, that stopped time as she knew it.
Maybe I could meet you there,
Maybe I could meet you there...
Patrick Verona had died, due to something like a heart attack, as far as Mandella knew. He was twenty-eight years old. Way too young. Coming out of thought, Kat sat there silently for a while, letting it sink in. A tear ran down her face and she quickly brushed it away. Her kids would be home soon and they couldn't see her like this. She recalled all her memories of Patrick, every word he said, every smile. She remembered saying she hated him with the fire of a thousand suns and remembered writing that poem aimed at him, saying all the things she hated about him. The last line: but most of all I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. Kat sighed, her head was full of " if only"s. This was the last possible way she had wanted it to end. The pain was still there. After all, it had only been two years…
It's written all over your face,
Its such a painful thing to waste
Tell me now,
where do we go?
now the futures not so clear,
I can't believe we've ended here
where's the world that doesn't care?
maybe I could meet you there.
Maybe I could meet you there..
Maybe I should meet you there.