Post One: Ashley
I’d like to wind the clock back about three years.
Hell, three years, five months, two days, seven hours, four minutes, and forty-nine seconds. Yeah, that’s when everything went kaboom.
Yes, put your hands into the “okay” sign, then put them together and then flick them away from each other and make an explosion sound with your lips.
You now know the thought going through my skull when my fiancé left me. WE WERE TOGETHER for five years. FIVE.
That’s like a lifetime compared to any Hollywood marriage…and Hollywood is where all of this kind of leads up to. My life was put on the back burner for his benefit. I had issues with it at first, I mean I was kind of locked away from him and we could only see each other in fleeting ways. Using prepaid phones, no FaceTime chat and absolutely no Facebook.
But it wasn’t always like that.
That’s usually the story and then something happens.
Or someone happens.
Someone comes in and gives something I couldn’t—even though THAT wasn’t supposed to be an issue.
So, I’m done hiding the dirty f’n laundry.
I’m going to tell everything. Maybe the Facebook police will block me. Mayne your publicist will see this!
Hell, maybe YOU’LL see this, DAVE, right as you sit on your nice little loveseat.
And everyone’s going to know that I'm the one who put you up there.
I don't know why…
But more will know how.
Post Two: Bad at Love
Let’s get more out into the open and disinfect a few hot spots you failed to truthfully talk about in that big’ol article last month that’s still trending on Twitter: We met at the Eastside Club—a bar that left us alone in the corner because we honestly wanted only two Dr. Peppers and a space to talk about what was killing our hopes and dreams. We sat at the table near the back for almost six hours—going past closing time.
Just the two of us, just talking: the guy who wanted to sing for the world and the girl who wanted nothing more than for that to happen. You wailed about how “no one listens to real music” and “it’s all autotune crap and no heart.”
So, in that moment I did the stupid thing of kissing you on the lips and proclaiming that you just need to go to that audition in the morning and if you didn’t, I would drag your ass in there. You asked how I could do that if I didn’t know where you live.
And that is when you noticed I had your wallet. You were so entrenched by our lips and one of my hands that you had no idea where my other hand was.
There was another place I wanted to put it, but I figured I wouldn’t get another chance to make you get up and do something with your life. Yeah, there were other things on my mind but for four out of those six hours your constant welling and wailing made me want to think more than jumping on you