Hey.
My name is Sandra Grace Callaghan but most people just call me Sandy.
The story I'm about to tell you is how I came to fall in love with the biggest Rockstar in the world, Jon Bon Jovi, not that his music didn't draw me in when I first heard...
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New York City, New York. January 17th 1992.
Jon's POV
Being honest, I still couldn't quite believe it. She had actually left me.
It had been on my mind for a long time that I would spend the rest of my life with Sandy. I just sorta assumed that that's how my life would turn out. Me and Sandy forever. Because it always seemed that no matter what was thrown at us, we got through it. Heck, we had been to hell and back and managed to get through that. I thought that we'd get through anything. I guess I thought wrong.
I had played that evening over and over in my head a million times, trying to think of anything I could have done to stop her from leaving. But that was the thing about Sandy, she was British and stubborn as fuck. There was nothing I could have done to change her mind.
And that really pissed me off. I should have seen it coming. I should have noticed all the things that I'd done wrong and fixed them a long time ago. I should have tried harder to get her to see my side of the story. I shouldn't have let her leave like that.
I guess I was angry at myself for not going after her and stopping her car and telling her how sorry I was. I should have told her how much I loved her, and how I see her face every time I close my eyes and how I never wanted to live without her. But I didn't.
A part of me tried to be angry at her for leaving me like that, without letting me explain. But I just couldn't. I never was good at holding a grudge against her. I loved her too much and now she was gone. Because of my stupidity and lack of ability to tell her how I really felt.
After she left, I tried my best to contact her even though she told me not to. I was a Jersey boy and there was no way I was going to give up on her that easily. She was stubborn, but two could play at that game.
I wrote her letters and left messages on her answering machine. When one of her parents picked up, they just told me the same thing every time, "You know she doesn't want to talk to you, Jon." Every time I knew she was there in the background just listening. I could just imagine her curled up on an arm chair wearing some oversized band t-shirt and fluffy pyjamas with a mug of tea in her hand and Baxter at her feet, missing me. Well, at least I hoped she was missing me as much I was missing her.
I had never missed anyone like this before. Even all the times I went away for writing or for tour, I knew that I'd see that smile when I got back home at the end of the day. But every time I walked through the door now, I was greeted with the solemn sound of silence. My hurt knowing that I'd never round the end of the hall, hearing her awful singing as she cooked me dinner. I just missed her so much.
I tried and tried to do anything I could to reach out to her, I even called Kelly, but she just swore at me and hung up the phone. It was no use. She really as serious. She didn't want to be with me anymore. I knew that, but I didn't want to accept it.
