keep it professional - r. taylor

18

~July 1976~

Attachment was the biggest problem I had to work on. My whole life, if I had been around someone for a good enough amount of time, I would cling to them for dear life. Whether that was with a best friend or boyfriend, it only became a problem when that certain someone left. Even if I wanted them to.

I ended things with Thomas. I knew that if I had spent more time with him, I would've wanted to establish a real relationship, which he clearly did not want. It was a difficult conclusion to come to, but I knew it was best for me in the end. On the other hand, Thomas seemed completely fine by the whole thing. When I told him I wanted to end things between the two of us, he shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

"If that's how you feel," he said, "then I am in no place to stand in the way." I reassured him that this had nothing to do against him, but he wasn't really listening. I'm pretty sure he was checked out of the conversation as soon as I told him we should end things.

As he was putting his jacket back on to leave my flat, he turned back to me, saying, "Well, I hope the rest of your life endeavors are plentiful." And with that, he pulled me in for one more quick embrace, sighing heavily as he placed his chin on my head. I was confused by his affection, but let him do what he needed to end his journey between the two of us.

Even though I was the one who wanted to end things, I was completely devastated the next day. Every time I felt the urge to get out of bed, the comfiness and warmth of my bed kept me inside. Most of my meals consisted of popcorn, toast, or any other snack that could be put together in a few minutes. From there, I would flock back to the bed, possibly turning on a record to listen to.

The first time I showered, I spent the whole time standing there and letting the water hit me. Before I knew it, tears were falling down my face. God, what was wrong with me? On one hand, I knew I was being ridiculous, but on the other, I needed a good cry since I hadn't had one in a while.

But once I finally got moving and back to work, I was back to my usual self. Most of my time was spent escorting the band around to hundreds of interviews. We had set up some spur of the moment shows in the UK, so Reid set up some press interviews to get the word out.

Things between Roger and I weren't as terrible as I thought they would be. Since the travesty at the wedding, neither one of us has really addressed it. Thinking back, now, we were getting along worse than before. Correction, he was being a complete arse to me, not the other way around. It seemed like every little thing I did, he would nitpick until I simply gave up on the task. Or, I would get so ticked off that I had to take a second to cool myself off.

From the waiting room of the TV studio being too small, to his tea being too cool, Roger could find anything and everything to complain about. No one really knew what prompted it, not even Brian, Freddie, or John. "Just ignore the twat," Freddie reassured me as I went to go find an acceptable bag of crisps for Roger. "He just wants to get a rise out of you."

"I think it may be working."

"Don't worry Elizabeth. Look at it this way: he's probably just acting out because he's gotten a certain girl on his mind that he can't get out." Freddie wiggled his eyebrows at me, nudging my arm playfully.

"Well, whoever that girl is, I want to find her to tell Roger that he's being a complete prick."

"Yikes, I didn't know you got this agitated."

"What about that stupid wrath of anger?"

"I have never actually witnessed that firsthand. All I've heard is horror stories from Deaky and Brian."