Sometimes you can't hold the door open any more than you already have.
This blog has by no means detailed the short comings of the one I refer to as my editor. Originally, when I started this blog, we were dating and I sang his praises consistently (occasionally receiving complaints about the frequency with which I tweeted about him). I had considered blogging almost a year previously and been shut down by my then boyfriend who assured me that I wasn't ready, I was mentally ill and couldn't make big decisions like breaking up with him. Maybe then, with the knowledge that JJ took on all of the positive aspects of my previous relationship and still allowed me to have my own beliefs and continue my usual life you can see where the positive influence came in. Still, all good things must come to an end.
I was still very ill when we started to see one another and ultimately surprised with my ability to sleep with him despite my 11 month drought. We dated non-exclusively (which was basically exclusively) for several months which included daily calls even when he was abroad. The first time he came home from somewhere far away I had a very bad day and he didn't rush to see me. I overdosed on tablets with no fatal repercussions and he looked altogether anxious when I saw him the following day. I have not seen that expression since, nor does he specifically recall that incident.
As time went by and we attempted a long distance summer it became apparent that JJ was not a keeper of promises. Having sworn we'd go away together if we were still together, he embarked on a Spain holiday with several friends, his ex-girlfriend included (but, no, not me). Once he was home we fought through my depression like fighter pilots, ready to deploy arms at any call. This became inherently boring and we both wanted to jump ship, my resilient suicide pleas becoming old news with increased velocity. Before October had a chance to begin he took his leave and I mine, except my escape was blocked and I was forced to crash down with the plane.
I presume it's in some form of unfounded guilt that kept him away for a month. My mother certainly found him at fault for my hospital escapade. Once reunited we attempted to fight crime and eventually resumed the deadly twist of bodies. That was around the time he promised to spend Hallowe'en with me but somebody flew him over to London instead. To make up for it he swore to see me on his birthday but those wires crossed too... Eventually the point was New Years but his friends planned something else for him and I was forbidden to attend. Like a loser my brother took me to a party and I called JJ repeatedly after I was misused, with no attempt of a reply. I have held him responsible for my rape for almost six months.
I never got my head around that night. Within hours I was loaded into a van and brought to a gig. On the last night I got completely wasted and fucked an actor at 8am, within hours I was loaded into a van and brought home. More promises were made to make up for New Years. He would take me dancing, to the cinema, ice-skating -- anything. We never went anywhere. I did try to get him to bring me with him when he was going out anyway and got very drunk in front of potential clients and ruined my name. I called and called him. I even sent a SnapChat to the guy he was with begging to hear from JJ. I didn't.
I recall being totally devastated that he went to see the Hobbit without me in December, even though he agreed to come with me afterwards. I insisted on seeing Jurassic World with him, and first. That didn't happen. I called and called the day he was going. I was completely alone in the world and I'd taken another overdose. He texted two days later with a tiny apology that wasn't worth anything. It seemed too late. The pills were already gone. Two days after we fought it out we finally went for drinks, six months after he had promised. He spent a lot of that night on the phone. The next day we were in bed and he wanted to change perspective. He took me just like I'd been taken on New Years. I stayed still, scared and silent. When he was finished I curled up into a ball.
Sometimes you can't hold the door any more.
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