Persuasion

Save Myself

I wish I could say that the move back home was exactly what I needed to throw my life into perspective, but it didn't. I should have been focusing on my shortcomings and making an effort to grow up, but instead I argued with people about not being back while I sat by the pool and hung out with my mom. I knew I should be working on my resume and portfolio, making connections, writing, but all I could muster was feeling sorry for myself. Then April came and painted the picture of me I'd been avoiding seeing. My pathetic self, in my childhood bedroom at 32 with no job and no prospects. In a moment of weakness, I called Logan. I wanted to see him. I needed his words of encouragement, I needed to feel the happiness I could only seem to obtain when I was with him. But she had moved in. The walls around me were closing in. Logan is doing well. He is better without me.

I volunteered to run the Stars Hollow Gazette. It was a distraction and distractions were good. Most importantly it made a convenient excuse to not go back to London. I wrote articles and asked friends to supplement what I couldn't write on my own. Doyle for movie reviews and Paris for health related articles. It was like being back at the Yale Daily News, except for one notable exception. I knew I could have asked Logan for help, but I didn't. This was it. I wasn't going to lean on him any longer. Logan called me often, and texted more frequently. I did my best to ignore the messages and when I told him that I was busy I tried not focus on the hurt I heard in his voice. I had to let him go.

Then Jess came to town and my whole world tilted back on its axis. He sparked the idea for the book, write about my mom and me. It was so easy I almost was mad that I didn't think of it myself. I would be mad too, if I wasn't so excited to have something to focus my energy on. Particularly that wasn't blond and handsome and calling me every day. The stories poured out of me. The memories. Like writing in a journal only more cathartic. My mom was always larger than life and if anyone could do her justice in print it was me. I felt charged and energized, until he called and he always called.

One evening in particular he had called me twice and left as many voicemails. I was curled on the couch reading when I declined both calls and left the messages unanswered. I should have known when the third call I received was from an unknown number in the UK that I shouldn't have answered, but my underlying optimism that it was something about a job forced me to answer the call.

"Ah so she does answer the phone occasionally" Logan's voice rang through the line, dripping with sarcasm.

"I answer the phone" I said flatly.

"Just not for me?" he questioned.

"I answer the phone Logan, I've just been-"

"Busy" he finished. "I know, that's what you keep telling me but it doesn't feel like you're busy Rory, it feels like you are avoiding talking to me."

I opened my mouth to speak but he continued.

"It isn't just a coincidence that I resort to calling you from the conference line in my building that you finally answer when you haven't answered any of my phone calls in the last week. Now will you tell me what is going on? Preferably without using the word busy."

"Would you accept hectic?" I tried to joke.

"Rory I know you are upset, please just talk to me" he pleaded.

"It's fine, there's nothing to talk about" I lied.

He sighed loudly. "So just tell me about your day" he prodded.

"It was okay."

"And the Gazette?"

"Why are you looking to acquire a new newspaper Huntzberger?"