Affinity

I Found You

"Taylor, so, I've heard you might be attending a ball soon," Nick Grimshaw ensues. Ed and I are on his radio show, mid-interview for a joint-interview, which has been fun. London, in general, has been awesome. I have my Elle Style Awards later today, and the Brits are tomorrow. It's a good day, I'm stoked.

"Mhm, well- it's more of an afterparty. After the Brits. It's a masquerade! I am so excited!" I say, sitting up in my seat.

"Are you bringing a date?" He asks and I feel a flash of nostalgia pass. Ed looks a little more alert at the words and looks to start to waive the question.

"No, unless Ed will go with me, jerk," I manage, smiling over at him as he settles hesitantly to his seat.

"I have my own to attend though,"

"Why not just go to yours then go to Taylor's?" Nick suggests.

"Because it's never good to be drunk at a masquerade, everyone knows that," Ed says and I nod repeatedly for emphasis.

"You do not wanna be caught drunk not knowing who anyone is," I agree.

I'm doing fine right now. It's been around two weeks now since the girl day and no more run-ins with Adam have happened. I'm in London and unless he's just happens to be here on vacation, I won't be seeing him. Which has both good sides and bad sides. I want to see him, I still love him, tragically. And good since I am actually spacing myself off, as indirectly as possible.

The rest of the day consists of the Elle Style Awards where I nab the Woman of the Year, which is amazing, but everything seems to fly by, and I'm left to sleepily drag myself into bed, scrolling through tumblr absently until I fall asleep.

I wake up early, earlier than I usually do. With my type of schedule, you'd think I'd be sort of a morning person but I'm not. I hate the whole concept of waking up early because on days off, when I wake up, it's like 7 and once I wake up I can't go back to sleep. So it's this horrible cycle of getting up either way. It's tragic.

I drag myself to the bathroom regardless, moving my comforter absently away from me, which has Olivia up and off the bed in an instant.

I run the shower hot, and let the water take place of time. The shower always gives me time to think through things, dream things like for tour or song ideas or scenarios in life. Like, for this tour, I'm thinking a lift for the stage but I don't know where I'd put it. If anywhere, I'd have to go with the bstage simply for necessity but I don't even know if it's going to work out.

And Adam. I've taken the stance that I have to accept the fact he might just be not coming back. He could have decided he wasn't cut out for rumors or cameras or seeing his face on the news. And I don't blame him for that. This is what I was afraid of. That no one was willing to take all that and fit well with me. I'm probably better off alone anyway, with my cats.

I shut off the shower and wrap a towel around my body, going straight for the sink. I let the water fill my hands, slowly waiting until it drains a bit to splash my face. I have more important things to be thinking about than him. Like my performance tonight, or that I'm nominated to best International Female Artist, which I'm pumped for. This would be my first Brit.

I don't even know if I love him anymore. I love the concept of him, of who I knew him to be, before all this. But, now, I don't know. He's a liar, first and foremost, and he didn't even try to stop me when I left. He knew what I was doing was right, that leaving him would be best for me. But he didn't protest. He blamed me, of all things.

Olivia saunters in, sniffing around under my makeup stand as I get ready. They'll change me into a completely different set after I get to the wardrobe and makeup staff, but, I mean, I'd rather look decent in candids rather than like I just rolled out of bed. It requires a little bit of effort.