Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > These Are The Seeds We Sew
“Hello?” my voice was so gruff from morning.
“Patrick?” the woman’s soft voice beckoned me, I shot up and sat rigid on my bed.
“Charlie??” I gasped desperately into the cell.
“No....It’s Grace.” She responded. My face screwed up with the cruel joke that my trauma had played on me.
“Mrs Redwood, I’m sorry.” I apologized quickly, instantly.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for – how are you?” she asked, quickly changing the topic of startlement.
“Like shit.” I said bluntly, forgetting the respect I should have had, honesty had no patience.
She was quiet on the other end of the line.
“But I’m trying. How are you?” I asked, breaking that conversation block I’d inserted.
“Coping.” She replied quietly. I nodded, such a reasonable statement to make.
“Alan has pleaded guilty.” She said weakly.
“Huh – What?”
“There won’t be a trial – which is a relief, I don’t think I could have coped with everything coming our and being subject to cross examination should he have pleaded not guilty.”
I was silent, I couldn’t quite get it in my head.
“You say it like it’s OK, that it’s a good thing he did this – he murdered Charlie.” I said cooly, not letting my emotion overrun just yet.
“There’s nothing I can do about that Patrick.” She said.
I chewed on my bottom lip hard and squeezed my eyes tighter together.
“I would like to meet up with you at some point, discuss the final parts of her funeral. I’m sure she would have wanted you to be involved.”
“Grace, I-“ I stopped and put my head in my hand and took a deep breath.
“I don’t know if I can come to the funeral.” I said as quietly and unconditionally as I could. I’d been thinking about it a lot and there was something invaluable about saying goodbye to her when she wasn’t even conscious to know.
“What?”
She was desperate, i could tell by the gravel in her whisper.
I couldn’t think of the first way to explain or excuse myself from Charlie’s presence, there was something so infinite about a funeral. I remembered Charlie best when she was in my arms. Not in a wooden box or ceramic vase. I was unprepared to diminish the triumph of our relationship like that.
“Patrick – you need to be there.” She pleaded with me.
“No I don’t.” I said sternly, it came out meaner than I wanted it to.
“And I won’t be there – I’m sorry Mrs Redwood.” I said and I hung up, unprepared to deal with this anymore. Immediately, I absorbed myself in a memory of her...
“I got a job!” She squealed excitedly.
“Oh my god Charlie – that’s fantastic!!” I said excitedly down the phone, I was in New York, she was still in Los Angeles trying to pull her life back together after living in a cacoon like state for the last 2 years.
“It’s for an agency, I’ll just be filing and doing some paperwork.”
“Charlie, you’re amazing, you know that? I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you Patrick....i miss you.” She said, the excitement was now trailing off her voice.
“I’ll be home tomorrow, how about you come out to Chicago for the weekend.”
“I have to work....”
Inside, I wanted to shout, there was no need for her to work, I could support her but I knew she needed this job more than anything to get her confidence as a member of society back. She was an integral person and needed a sense of belonging and it appeared that I couldn’t do all of that for her, some of it, she had to do herself.
“OK, well I’ll come back to LA then, I’ll just get an internal flight.”
“Patrick no! You’ll be exhausted, go home, see your family....” she said, I knew she was smiling at me as she said it.
“Charlie....You’re my family now.”
I waited for the longest time but there was no response.
“Charlie?” I asked very quietly.
“I’m here!” she blurted out, she was crying.
“I’m sorry – i didn’t mean to make you cry!” I smiled.
“Yes you did! Why would you say something that would move me so much? You’re a wretched lover you know that?” she cried while laughing.
“I have been known to be fairly wretched yes.”
She giggled heartily down the line to me, now she was clearing up her nose and wiping her mouth, i could tell all of this without seeing her.
“I threw my phone away.” she said quietly.
“It was the only way to cut off contact with-“ she stopped, uncomfortable using the words.
“You did the right thing.” I commended.
“Sometimes – I get these really strong urges....not what you think but like....urges to be the person who they call when they wanna feel good y’know?”
“When you get those urges Charlie, you just call me.” I explained clearly to her, unable to withstand the risk of her going back to a single one of those men.
“Sometimes you’re so far away!” she whispered.
“You’re never to far away to make me feel good.” I reasoned.
“You mean that don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah I do.” I said honestly.
“Patrick-“
I waited.
“Yeah?”
“It doesn’t matter, it can wait till you get to LA.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow night. Go stay at my apartment, I’ll call you when I know what time I’m getting in.” I instructed her.
“Ok. I can’t wait.” She was smiling again.
“Remember .....call me anytime....” I reminded her.
“I’ll remember.” She said quietly, then the dial tone hit.
That had been a couple of weeks before she’d died. I revelled in it because I recall just how proud I was of her that moment she told me. She so made the effort to turn around and she did it all for me. If she hadn’t of met me, she would never have done it then, I had no doubt that she would’ve come to her senses at some point but not for a length of time. It was only me who made her realise how unhappy she was and it was only me that loved her enough to get her out. I take credit for little things in life but loving Charlie Redwood is the one I take most credit for.
I had some bereavement counsellor coming to try and help me deal with Charlie’s death. It was making me ill, the stress and trauma of it all. Every time I closed my eyes to rest, I see her red hair emblazoning my thoughts, her beautiful smile and those unimaginable green eyes, I hear that awful voicemail, I hear her heels clicking as she walked out my apartment that night, I feel her hands on my shoulders that last time and her lips on mine for that last kiss cut so short.
I had to re-trace our last time together and seal everything to tightly in order not to let go, to never let go of her. I refused to wash her pillow, her soft scent remained on it and I was no where near ready to let it go. The red hair I would find on the sheets and in the sink, pieces of her clothing cascaded through out my bedroom from the last few months. She’d even started to have her own drawer. I hadn’t opened it since.
Dwelling on this was no good, I could hear her giggling haunt my thoughts, I got up and switched on the stereo and allowed the mindless LA radio take me away from it all. I crawled on to the bed and lay my head on her pillow. This time, i let my mind focus on nothing, I just inhaled calmly and listened to the radio and waited.
Waited for someone to come and make sense of exactly how I was going to move on without her.
“Patrick?” the woman’s soft voice beckoned me, I shot up and sat rigid on my bed.
“Charlie??” I gasped desperately into the cell.
“No....It’s Grace.” She responded. My face screwed up with the cruel joke that my trauma had played on me.
“Mrs Redwood, I’m sorry.” I apologized quickly, instantly.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for – how are you?” she asked, quickly changing the topic of startlement.
“Like shit.” I said bluntly, forgetting the respect I should have had, honesty had no patience.
She was quiet on the other end of the line.
“But I’m trying. How are you?” I asked, breaking that conversation block I’d inserted.
“Coping.” She replied quietly. I nodded, such a reasonable statement to make.
“Alan has pleaded guilty.” She said weakly.
“Huh – What?”
“There won’t be a trial – which is a relief, I don’t think I could have coped with everything coming our and being subject to cross examination should he have pleaded not guilty.”
I was silent, I couldn’t quite get it in my head.
“You say it like it’s OK, that it’s a good thing he did this – he murdered Charlie.” I said cooly, not letting my emotion overrun just yet.
“There’s nothing I can do about that Patrick.” She said.
I chewed on my bottom lip hard and squeezed my eyes tighter together.
“I would like to meet up with you at some point, discuss the final parts of her funeral. I’m sure she would have wanted you to be involved.”
“Grace, I-“ I stopped and put my head in my hand and took a deep breath.
“I don’t know if I can come to the funeral.” I said as quietly and unconditionally as I could. I’d been thinking about it a lot and there was something invaluable about saying goodbye to her when she wasn’t even conscious to know.
“What?”
She was desperate, i could tell by the gravel in her whisper.
I couldn’t think of the first way to explain or excuse myself from Charlie’s presence, there was something so infinite about a funeral. I remembered Charlie best when she was in my arms. Not in a wooden box or ceramic vase. I was unprepared to diminish the triumph of our relationship like that.
“Patrick – you need to be there.” She pleaded with me.
“No I don’t.” I said sternly, it came out meaner than I wanted it to.
“And I won’t be there – I’m sorry Mrs Redwood.” I said and I hung up, unprepared to deal with this anymore. Immediately, I absorbed myself in a memory of her...
“I got a job!” She squealed excitedly.
“Oh my god Charlie – that’s fantastic!!” I said excitedly down the phone, I was in New York, she was still in Los Angeles trying to pull her life back together after living in a cacoon like state for the last 2 years.
“It’s for an agency, I’ll just be filing and doing some paperwork.”
“Charlie, you’re amazing, you know that? I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you Patrick....i miss you.” She said, the excitement was now trailing off her voice.
“I’ll be home tomorrow, how about you come out to Chicago for the weekend.”
“I have to work....”
Inside, I wanted to shout, there was no need for her to work, I could support her but I knew she needed this job more than anything to get her confidence as a member of society back. She was an integral person and needed a sense of belonging and it appeared that I couldn’t do all of that for her, some of it, she had to do herself.
“OK, well I’ll come back to LA then, I’ll just get an internal flight.”
“Patrick no! You’ll be exhausted, go home, see your family....” she said, I knew she was smiling at me as she said it.
“Charlie....You’re my family now.”
I waited for the longest time but there was no response.
“Charlie?” I asked very quietly.
“I’m here!” she blurted out, she was crying.
“I’m sorry – i didn’t mean to make you cry!” I smiled.
“Yes you did! Why would you say something that would move me so much? You’re a wretched lover you know that?” she cried while laughing.
“I have been known to be fairly wretched yes.”
She giggled heartily down the line to me, now she was clearing up her nose and wiping her mouth, i could tell all of this without seeing her.
“I threw my phone away.” she said quietly.
“It was the only way to cut off contact with-“ she stopped, uncomfortable using the words.
“You did the right thing.” I commended.
“Sometimes – I get these really strong urges....not what you think but like....urges to be the person who they call when they wanna feel good y’know?”
“When you get those urges Charlie, you just call me.” I explained clearly to her, unable to withstand the risk of her going back to a single one of those men.
“Sometimes you’re so far away!” she whispered.
“You’re never to far away to make me feel good.” I reasoned.
“You mean that don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah I do.” I said honestly.
“Patrick-“
I waited.
“Yeah?”
“It doesn’t matter, it can wait till you get to LA.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow night. Go stay at my apartment, I’ll call you when I know what time I’m getting in.” I instructed her.
“Ok. I can’t wait.” She was smiling again.
“Remember .....call me anytime....” I reminded her.
“I’ll remember.” She said quietly, then the dial tone hit.
That had been a couple of weeks before she’d died. I revelled in it because I recall just how proud I was of her that moment she told me. She so made the effort to turn around and she did it all for me. If she hadn’t of met me, she would never have done it then, I had no doubt that she would’ve come to her senses at some point but not for a length of time. It was only me who made her realise how unhappy she was and it was only me that loved her enough to get her out. I take credit for little things in life but loving Charlie Redwood is the one I take most credit for.
I had some bereavement counsellor coming to try and help me deal with Charlie’s death. It was making me ill, the stress and trauma of it all. Every time I closed my eyes to rest, I see her red hair emblazoning my thoughts, her beautiful smile and those unimaginable green eyes, I hear that awful voicemail, I hear her heels clicking as she walked out my apartment that night, I feel her hands on my shoulders that last time and her lips on mine for that last kiss cut so short.
I had to re-trace our last time together and seal everything to tightly in order not to let go, to never let go of her. I refused to wash her pillow, her soft scent remained on it and I was no where near ready to let it go. The red hair I would find on the sheets and in the sink, pieces of her clothing cascaded through out my bedroom from the last few months. She’d even started to have her own drawer. I hadn’t opened it since.
Dwelling on this was no good, I could hear her giggling haunt my thoughts, I got up and switched on the stereo and allowed the mindless LA radio take me away from it all. I crawled on to the bed and lay my head on her pillow. This time, i let my mind focus on nothing, I just inhaled calmly and listened to the radio and waited.
Waited for someone to come and make sense of exactly how I was going to move on without her.
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