will you take a moment, promise me this: that you'll stand by me forever
I can’t remember if I’ve ever told this story here. I think I have. When I was a teenager, trapped somewhere in that weird space between the first kiss and the first time, I was dating a boy from the South. I was enamoured with everything about him. His green eyes and dark hair, a splash of freckles across his unfairly high cheekbones, his accent, and the way my name sounded on his lips. We traded visits and one Sunday afternoon I put him on the train back towards London with just enough time to get home for a roast, but food was the last thing on my mind. I was heartbroken to say goodbye. He stood just inside the doors of the car and in a moment of desperation, I flung myself forward for one more kiss. My act of foolishness timed perfectly with the closing doors and my cheeks were promptly smooshed and my ego crushed. Humiliated, I didn’t take his calls again, and they stopped after about a week. I thought it was the end of my life for a long time. My friends teased me about it for ages and every time, my cheeks burned with humiliation and a sense of loss because what if he’d been The One? It took a while to figure out that if he’d been The One, we would’ve been able to laugh about it together.
I lose myself in relationships. I give everything that I have until there is nothing left of me for myself. It is exhausting and draining when it’s so one sided. I think that’s why my past relationships never ultimately fizzled out, because I was feeding and not getting anything in return. The divorce though, that was crippling. If I look past the embarrassment and shame of feeling and being duped, I can see the lessons. I can see that our marriage was never completely healthy. In retrospect, I think he loved me in the ways that he could and I did my best, but it just wasn’t enough. It was a spectacular car crash ending and I fancied myself irreparable. Mostly because I didn’t want to be fixed. I was okay, I could muddle through with work and friends, it could be enough. But someone close to me reminded me that work would not always be there.
I went as a friend. I conceded to indulge in a Harrison Ford-a-thon if he watched Titanic. He was barefoot when he greeted me on his porch. It was an odd thing to notice, but I think it caught me off guard because it was such a casual thing, like we were old friends and I was popping ‘round for a cuppa. We ate biscuits and put the kettle on, I showed him how convenient it is and why it’s important to keep a blanket on the sofa, we drank too many bottles, I cried too many tears over Titanic and remember nothing of Star Wars. I laughed. It was cathartic because it felt like I hadn’t laughed like that in so long, it felt like I was coming up for much needed air. Gary made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt since my face had gotten crunched in the doors. It’s so different from the way work makes me feel, it just made me realise that my friends had been right. It was time to move on.
I hated to know that he was leaving. It felt so new, too new to stand the test of so much time apart even though we hadn’t had a discussion about what we were and where it was going. We met one more time. There were several cupcakes, too much Nickelback, a book, promise and a kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like the Vanilla frosting I’d been making for years. I sat back before he did and for just a split second I got to see the way his lips curled up at the edges and the wrinkles just beginning to really set in around his eyes. In that seat, I knew I would wait for as long as he asked me to. Months later, in the same spot with a similar expression on his face and the same book in my lap, I knew the answer to his question before I’d said it. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes. Nothing would make me happier. I know people say only fools rush in, but nothing had ever felt more certain. Show business is a fickle thing, one day you’re in and the next, you’re tabloid fodder. The promise of a lifetime with someone is a wonderful thing to anchor you to reality. What more do I need if I’ve got this person to spend the rest of my life with? Nothing. No thing.
Nearly five years later, we’re heading back to London. It’s been an amazing experience to see the world with him and experience it through his eyes. Piano bars in Moscow, pub crawls through Berlin, eating our way through Italy. We have driven down the California coast and driven each other mental in remote motels on Route 66. He has ushered me out of the shower and into a cool New York City night when the fire alarms went off in our hotel, and been the big spoon in my childhood bed so I could spend a holiday with my family. He has done so much with me and for me that I would never be able to pay him back. He scoffs when I say this, but we were only hours after getting married when he delivered me to the A&E because I was so ill that I could no longer function. In sickness and in health was tested so quickly and he was so amazing, there will never, ever be enough words.
As I settle into my thirties, I’m content and happy with almost everything in my life. I feel like I’m in control of the things I can control, and I’m comfortable letting everything else run its course. It’s one of the many things he’s taught me, to appreciate that freedom.
One of my friends once said that she could never abide by the idea of marrying her best friend. She said that her best friend is the person she bitches to about her husband, and her husband is the person she can tolerate on a day to day basis. I used to agree, but now I've experienced the flip side and nearly five years on, I'm still so excited to wake up and fall asleep next to him and I love that our conversations never seem to cease. Gary is my person, the one who is always behind me, supporting me, challenging me. This year I'll be back at the X Factor, much in part because of Gary's encouragement. He will be able to write both for himself and others. It will be a relatively busy year compared to the one just past, but it'll be a welcome change of pace. We have so many wonderful plans laid out ahead of us that we’re slowly chipping away at: more albums, more telly, more songwriting, and the like with a whole lot of mutual support, building a new home that’s just for us, but before any of that, there’s a promise to fulfill that we made to each other years ago, and that’s starting a family of our own.
[I hate to say that my time here has come to an end. When I started this, I had no plans to stick around more than a couple months. Bret and Jemaine are long gone, but they're the reason behind Gary and Cheryl, and therefore the reason I stayed. So, if you two see this, thank you, you were amazing and hilarious and overall incredible people. Editors, Tom & Ed, I have loved you so much. I know we don't talk as much as we used to, but I still think of you as some of the best people. Kevin/Damien Dalgaard/Air Bud, you're so amaze. Thank you for always being an incredible friend and sounding board. I hope I gave to you half of what you did to me. Let's not lose touch, please? There is so much Salt N' Pepa left to enjoy. Adam, Andi, Taylor S., Armie (!!!), James, (Russell), and so many people who are here and who are gone that I wish I had gotten to know better and engaged more because you're all phenomenal people and writers. The ghosts of Girls Aloud past: you were all a joy in your own way, and I loved the wee community that we had. If any of you are still floating around, please say hello. I'm never going to remember everyone I need to acknowledge for making my time here so wonderful, but I honestly believe that everyone I've ever had the chance to speak to has made me laugh via chat or draw something or apples to apples, you have made this more fun than it would've been otherwise.
And then there was Gary, because obviously I'd be remiss to not mention him at all. And there is so much that could be said, but I'd end up writing a whole separate entry, so I'll try to be brief. When I started writing Cheryl, I wasn't interested in developing any kind of storyline outside of friends because, like I said, I had no intention of sticking around for too long. This just kind of happened out of nowhere and it was weird because I had admired him and his writing for so long that I was intimidated by him. I did not expect to find someone so funny and down to earth behind all of those verbose updates. There was an unreasonable amount of bullshit surrounding their coupling and people who decided that they were just too unlikely of a couple/unrealistic/etc., because that's never before happened at MBP, right? It was annoying and disheartening and I wanted to walk away from it so many times, but I'm grateful that I didn't, and I'm glad that he is so stubborn and keeps a lot idle threats handy. So let me say that I love you for giving me a reason to stay and so many laughs with the photoshops and the portmanteau that just worked. It's been so fun to develop their storyline and enjoy everything that happened that we could've only hoped for and I'm still so grateful for our back-to-back Best Couple Bubbles wins. It's been so long and I'm so grateful that we're doing this together. The end result is that I've made a really good friend, and when this story has run its course, I believe that our relationship will still be going strong. In that regard, to you I won't say goodbye, because that's just not the case, so I'll say thank you.
I'll slowly but surely be removing everyone, unless you're keen to stay added. You're all wonderful and if you'd like to stay in touch that would make me so happy and comments are screened to ensure your privacy. Be good to each other and I hope you find someone as incredible and inspirational as I did.
The End.]
I lose myself in relationships. I give everything that I have until there is nothing left of me for myself. It is exhausting and draining when it’s so one sided. I think that’s why my past relationships never ultimately fizzled out, because I was feeding and not getting anything in return. The divorce though, that was crippling. If I look past the embarrassment and shame of feeling and being duped, I can see the lessons. I can see that our marriage was never completely healthy. In retrospect, I think he loved me in the ways that he could and I did my best, but it just wasn’t enough. It was a spectacular car crash ending and I fancied myself irreparable. Mostly because I didn’t want to be fixed. I was okay, I could muddle through with work and friends, it could be enough. But someone close to me reminded me that work would not always be there.
I went as a friend. I conceded to indulge in a Harrison Ford-a-thon if he watched Titanic. He was barefoot when he greeted me on his porch. It was an odd thing to notice, but I think it caught me off guard because it was such a casual thing, like we were old friends and I was popping ‘round for a cuppa. We ate biscuits and put the kettle on, I showed him how convenient it is and why it’s important to keep a blanket on the sofa, we drank too many bottles, I cried too many tears over Titanic and remember nothing of Star Wars. I laughed. It was cathartic because it felt like I hadn’t laughed like that in so long, it felt like I was coming up for much needed air. Gary made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt since my face had gotten crunched in the doors. It’s so different from the way work makes me feel, it just made me realise that my friends had been right. It was time to move on.
I hated to know that he was leaving. It felt so new, too new to stand the test of so much time apart even though we hadn’t had a discussion about what we were and where it was going. We met one more time. There were several cupcakes, too much Nickelback, a book, promise and a kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like the Vanilla frosting I’d been making for years. I sat back before he did and for just a split second I got to see the way his lips curled up at the edges and the wrinkles just beginning to really set in around his eyes. In that seat, I knew I would wait for as long as he asked me to. Months later, in the same spot with a similar expression on his face and the same book in my lap, I knew the answer to his question before I’d said it. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes. Nothing would make me happier. I know people say only fools rush in, but nothing had ever felt more certain. Show business is a fickle thing, one day you’re in and the next, you’re tabloid fodder. The promise of a lifetime with someone is a wonderful thing to anchor you to reality. What more do I need if I’ve got this person to spend the rest of my life with? Nothing. No thing.
Nearly five years later, we’re heading back to London. It’s been an amazing experience to see the world with him and experience it through his eyes. Piano bars in Moscow, pub crawls through Berlin, eating our way through Italy. We have driven down the California coast and driven each other mental in remote motels on Route 66. He has ushered me out of the shower and into a cool New York City night when the fire alarms went off in our hotel, and been the big spoon in my childhood bed so I could spend a holiday with my family. He has done so much with me and for me that I would never be able to pay him back. He scoffs when I say this, but we were only hours after getting married when he delivered me to the A&E because I was so ill that I could no longer function. In sickness and in health was tested so quickly and he was so amazing, there will never, ever be enough words.
As I settle into my thirties, I’m content and happy with almost everything in my life. I feel like I’m in control of the things I can control, and I’m comfortable letting everything else run its course. It’s one of the many things he’s taught me, to appreciate that freedom.
One of my friends once said that she could never abide by the idea of marrying her best friend. She said that her best friend is the person she bitches to about her husband, and her husband is the person she can tolerate on a day to day basis. I used to agree, but now I've experienced the flip side and nearly five years on, I'm still so excited to wake up and fall asleep next to him and I love that our conversations never seem to cease. Gary is my person, the one who is always behind me, supporting me, challenging me. This year I'll be back at the X Factor, much in part because of Gary's encouragement. He will be able to write both for himself and others. It will be a relatively busy year compared to the one just past, but it'll be a welcome change of pace. We have so many wonderful plans laid out ahead of us that we’re slowly chipping away at: more albums, more telly, more songwriting, and the like with a whole lot of mutual support, building a new home that’s just for us, but before any of that, there’s a promise to fulfill that we made to each other years ago, and that’s starting a family of our own.
[I hate to say that my time here has come to an end. When I started this, I had no plans to stick around more than a couple months. Bret and Jemaine are long gone, but they're the reason behind Gary and Cheryl, and therefore the reason I stayed. So, if you two see this, thank you, you were amazing and hilarious and overall incredible people. Editors, Tom & Ed, I have loved you so much. I know we don't talk as much as we used to, but I still think of you as some of the best people. Kevin/Damien Dalgaard/Air Bud, you're so amaze. Thank you for always being an incredible friend and sounding board. I hope I gave to you half of what you did to me. Let's not lose touch, please? There is so much Salt N' Pepa left to enjoy. Adam, Andi, Taylor S., Armie (!!!), James, (Russell), and so many people who are here and who are gone that I wish I had gotten to know better and engaged more because you're all phenomenal people and writers. The ghosts of Girls Aloud past: you were all a joy in your own way, and I loved the wee community that we had. If any of you are still floating around, please say hello. I'm never going to remember everyone I need to acknowledge for making my time here so wonderful, but I honestly believe that everyone I've ever had the chance to speak to has made me laugh via chat or draw something or apples to apples, you have made this more fun than it would've been otherwise.
And then there was Gary, because obviously I'd be remiss to not mention him at all. And there is so much that could be said, but I'd end up writing a whole separate entry, so I'll try to be brief. When I started writing Cheryl, I wasn't interested in developing any kind of storyline outside of friends because, like I said, I had no intention of sticking around for too long. This just kind of happened out of nowhere and it was weird because I had admired him and his writing for so long that I was intimidated by him. I did not expect to find someone so funny and down to earth behind all of those verbose updates. There was an unreasonable amount of bullshit surrounding their coupling and people who decided that they were just too unlikely of a couple/unrealistic/etc., because that's never before happened at MBP, right? It was annoying and disheartening and I wanted to walk away from it so many times, but I'm grateful that I didn't, and I'm glad that he is so stubborn and keeps a lot idle threats handy. So let me say that I love you for giving me a reason to stay and so many laughs with the photoshops and the portmanteau that just worked. It's been so fun to develop their storyline and enjoy everything that happened that we could've only hoped for and I'm still so grateful for our back-to-back Best Couple Bubbles wins. It's been so long and I'm so grateful that we're doing this together. The end result is that I've made a really good friend, and when this story has run its course, I believe that our relationship will still be going strong. In that regard, to you I won't say goodbye, because that's just not the case, so I'll say thank you.
I'll slowly but surely be removing everyone, unless you're keen to stay added. You're all wonderful and if you'd like to stay in touch that would make me so happy and comments are screened to ensure your privacy. Be good to each other and I hope you find someone as incredible and inspirational as I did.
The End.]