I Vowed I Would Always Be Yours

2. Cursed You as I Sleep-Talked

    Taylor wakes the next morning, violently hungover. She remembered nothing of the previous night. The clock says 12:04 but the sun is glaring through the blinds. Her head's pounding so she stumbles to the kitchen and manages to pour a glass of water and grab some pills. Sitting on the kitchen stool, head in her hands, Taylor feels how truly lonely the house was. Even her cats weren't anywhere to be seen or heard. She couldn't believe she was truly alone. She couldn't believe he'd actually leave.

    An hour later, feeling slightly better, Taylor asses damage control. The house wasn't a wreck- therefore no party. Or even a get together. In burning shame, she realizes she was blackout drunk alone. Guilt courses through her body as she accepts the unhealthy ways she deals with pain. She's immediately drawn back to that week in 2020, mid pandemic, in which they'd briefly split.

    Joe had left then, also. However she knew he was only at a hotel, that he'd be back eventually. Regardless, she had drank herself to numbness, and by the end of the week he had to return home to care for her and help her recover. She'd been embarrassed out of her mind. She'd never been so weak, so desperately out of control. At least from that experience, she had reluctantly realized her dependence on a steady partner. They confessed their love once again and promised to never throw away what they had over stupid fights.

    Unfortunately, nothing productive would come drinking again this time, so Taylor silently vowed to not let that happen again. Getting up from the couch she had found herself napping on, she walked to the window. His car wasn't outside. With every second passing, the chances of him returning diminished.

    The phone rang, drawing her away from the window and her incessant thoughts. The phone! She violently prayed on the way over that she hadn't called anyone or done something she'd regret last night while drunk. Jack's contact appeared, and relief flooded her body. She wouldn't know what to do if it was Joe.

    "Hello?"

    "Hey Tay. How are you feeling?" His voice is full of concern. He was one of her best friends, after all.

    "What do you mean?"

    "Oh- you were just drinking a ton yesterday. When I got there, and well during, and as I was leaving you downed the bottle. And I know you," he laughs, "you can't handle a lot. You must be terrible hungover."

    "Oh, yeah this sucks," she laughs in response. "I do feel terrible."

    "Taylor.." his voice shifts to a serious tone. She's about to be lectured, or worse- forced to talk about it. No way in hell was she talking about Joe when he such was a fresh wound.

    "I'm not talking about it!" She quickly interrupts. "I'll tell you what- you and Aaron share schedules and find a date we can spend in the studio together, alright? I want to finish the song."

    "Sure Tay, but-"

    "Perfect, text me a date!" And with that, she hangs up on Jack. Next, she searches through her call history. Nothing from yesterday, perfect. Moving on to messages, again nothing. She pats herself on the back for being a safe drunk. But no messages means no messages. None to Joe, and none from Joe. She'd secretly hoped he would text.

    She stood up, shaking her mind of him, and set herself on a quest to find a cat to pet.

June 2023
    Three and a half months pass.

    Taylor's phone remains blank. No phone calls, no voicemails, no texts. At least from the one person she yearned to hear from the most. To be fair, she had put no effort into reaching out to him, but as she justified it, he had been the one to leave, not her. Only slightly spurred on by her actions. Only slightly.

    The tour had started at just the perfect time for her. The rehearsals everyday the week before had conveniently fallen the week after Joe and her had split. Taylor had one week to cry, drink, write a song, and mourn the ending of a six year relationship before she was thrusted into the busiest schedule since the reputation stadium tour. Rehearsals, shows every weekend, after parties, and flying to New York to record the re-recorded albums during the week days. She was surrounded by the people who love her the most: her family, tour crew, best friends, producers, and the thousands upon thousands of fans attending the Eras tour.

    She didn't give herself the time to miss him. She exhausted herself in the best, fulfilling way possible. After writing and producing You're Losing Me with Jack at her home, and then Aaron in the studio, she did not give him a second thought. Taylor shoved him to the deepest corner of her head to not address.

    However he slipped through on the first night of the tour. She was so exited and nervous for the first show, she ran back to the dressing room for a last hug and "good luck" from Joe. But the dressing room was empty, just as she left it. Taylor stood still, realizing this wasn't the reputation tour, and she didn't have her boyfriend. She shook her head of the thought and ran back to the cleaning cart where she'd be transported beneath the stage. The roar of the crowd drowned out her thoughts, until she put her in-ear pieces in. Then, it was her heartbeat in her ears drowning out the silence in her heart.

    She was congratulated heavily after the show, and the after-party was one of the most fun nights she'd had. But because the show the following nights, she wasn't able to drink much. Arriving home completely sober by two in the morning, she removed her makeup, undressed, and showered in record speed before collapsing in bed. She was so happy, satisfied with her life. In her exhausted state, she turned to Joe's side to put an arm around her lover. She always slept best touching him. When her hand fell on the cold, empty side, her eyes opened in surprise. It all came flooding back. For the second time that day, she was caught off guard, caught in the pattern she had found herself in for the last six years. Tears fell before she could stop them, and sleep overcame her before she could address the root of them.

    Besides those two slip-ups, Taylor blocked him out completely. At least that's what she told herself. Nights were easiest after a show, where she was in a state of a mixture of pride and exhaustion, and passed out immediately. Nights were hardest in the middle of the week, when there were no shows or parties- or drinking to be honest. Her mind would just wander and she couldn't block him out. No matter how much she convinced herself she could.

    She'd lay in the quiet, empty bed, starting at the ceiling. Alone. She wondered how he was doing. Selfishly, she wondered if he thought of her. Had he seen her show? Sometimes she thought of him during the Vigilante Shit performance, showing him smugly what he was missing. She hoped he'd call her after that first performance.

    A lot of nights were spent wondering the effects of her song. Had he'd heard it? It wasn't released on streaming platforms, but she knew her fans had a way to access it. She couldn't decide if it was better if he sought out to hear it, or if he had no idea he inspired a song. What would his reaction be? Surly he couldn't be mad, obviously a song was coming. Would he feel guilty, and come running back to apologize for hurting her? Would he be upset, having their ending thrown in the spotlight? Would he accept the closure and move on? She hoped not, even though Taylor was trying desperately herself to move on.

    One question in particular gnawed away at her on these quiet nights. Why didn't he propose? Why wouldn't he marry her? She'd slept on this for almost four months. She attempted to move on. She failed.