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  • Juliet Anonymous


Looks like Romeo might not show up at the end of all this…

I got a bad sign today. One that rattled me more than I’d like to admit.

I didn’t reach out to Romeo, that would be against the rules. But I did sneak a peek at his Instagram. I wasn’t trying to cheat, I promise. Like I told you, dear Nurse, Romeo hasn’t been active on social media since 2016. But there is a photo of him on his feed that I like. He’s in bed, his blue eyes looking just off camera, and a slight smile on his face, like he wants to let you in on a secret.

I have looked at this photo a few times over the years, I’ll admit. Not full Insta-stalking - there isn’t much to stalk - but to remind myself of his face when he came to mind. And apparently - according to the man himself - Romeo was doing the same, scrolling though my Facebook and Instagram throughout the past decade, and following the narrative I was projecting about my sweet little life and loving marriage…

I had checked in on the picture in the last few days, but today I discovered I had been blocked.

And no, he hadn’t taken his account down. I have more than one Instagram account, and when I checked the other - one he doesn’t know belongs to me - there he was. No new posts, just that same, smiling face.

My mind spun. Why would he do that? And why now, a full week after we had severed contact? And then I remembered something…

After the whole fiasco with Paris walking in to the apartment as Romeo and I were reconsummating our… whatever this is... I tried to make plans. Again, things were messy, but I thought I could un-messy them by giving Romeo a few days to chill, maybe break up with Rosaline, and then on Sunday, I’d take him out on a date. “Someplace beautiful” I had said. We needed to talk, get to know one another again after we’d gotten some of the carnal craziness out of our systems, and The Huntington Library Garden seemed like just the ticket.

I love The Huntington. It’s my happy place, and I’ve been a member for two years now. I’ve written two of these chapters on their lavish lawns, or curled up in the shade by the fountain of the Sculpture Garden. It is a truly magnificent haven right in Pasadena that transports you to 18th century France, China’s Chengde Summer Palace, or the Koraku-en garden of Japan. What majestic spot could be better for a couple tragic lovers to reconnect?

But, as you know, that date was not to be. Again, as I explained in Chapter One, we decided a few days wasn’t enough. That 30 might be sufficient.

But I had made the evening reservation already, and damned if I was going to give up my spot. Besides, I reasoned - as I do - it would be good for me to take myself out. Learn how to be alone and like it.

So, I got my nails done for me, cleaned my car for me, dressed up for me, and took me out for dinner at the 1919 Cafe, had a write, and a deliciously long walk through the gardens. I was in heaven. The sun was setting, I had music in my ears, and for the first time I felt really and truly good about the space Romeo and I were taking from one another. I needed to heal, I was going to heal, and this gorgeous place was going to be a part of it. I slipped off my sandals, and got my feet deep in that thick, cool grass, and felt very, very romantic.

And part of me wanted him to see this. Wanted him to know that I went anyway, on our date, alone. That I was in heaven here, that it was gorgeous, and that all of this was waiting for us at the end of these 30 days. And so, I snapped a picture of the sun setting over the rose garden, and posted it to Instagram with the caption, “Someplace beautiful” followed by a kissy emoji.

It was stupid, and it was definitely a breach of my very own contract with myself. I had no way of knowing if he would see the post, but it doesn’t matter, I broke the rules, okay? I did, and I’m sorry. I promise you, I won’t do it again. But anyway, I can’t, because he blocked me.

Now, I should mention, dear Nurse, that I didn’t tell Romeo I was blocking him from calling, texting, or e-mailing me. I simply said I was going dark, and because I couldn’t stand the anxiety of waiting for a reply, I prevented him from being able to do so… or from me from receiving it, anyway. And this is where Lady Capulet - my fabulous mother - thinks I am in grave error. I don’t know if Romeo got my last e-mail asking him to meet me at the stadium where we first met. I have no reason to assume he didn’t, but I never got confirmation that he did. I never got confirmation of anything.

But even if Romeo is angry with me for blocking his number, he's hardly the type of person to get retribution by blocking me on Instagram. First off, he’s not passive aggressive like that, and secondly, as I’ve mentioned several times, he’s not a social media person. No, the Instagram blocking doesn’t seem like Romeo at all. But the simple, yet effective act, does have all the hallmarks of another character in our story…

The morning after Romeo and my first attempt to be intimate again was when things started to unravel. That’s when I received the Jerry Springer-esque message on Facebook from Rosaline telling me to stay away from Romeo and calling me a homewrecker. Sorry... a home wrecker.

What I gather from the string of one-sentence e-mails from Romeo that followed - desperate pleadings for me to support his lie that he and I were merely “flirting over text” - was that Rosaline cornered him. I had never seen Romeo scared before, but this was a man acting out of fear. To appease her that morning, he blocked me from his phone and from Facebook - a bit of an empty gesture considering he hadn’t posted anything in five years, but there you have it. The one place it appeared she hadn’t demanded he superficially shield himself from me was on Instagram.

The only rational explanation that I can come up with is a scenario I stupidly never even considered: Romeo has decided to go back to Rosaline.

What a fucking plot twist.

Now, I don’t know this. I don’t know anything, but isn’t that what this looks like, dear Nurse?

And how silly am I for not considering the possibility? Romeo and Rosaline have been in a two-year, committed relationship. They live together… or at least, they did before I decided to run off a random, wine-induced e-mail during a Big Brother commercial break. Clearly, there was something between these two. Feelings. Attachments. Familiarity. All the same pacific accoutrement that had kept me in my marriage to Paris. That, and fear of the unknown, of the a-lone... And this is where my fantastic talent for hearing what I want to hear was biting me right, smack in the ass.

Romeo did tell me I was the one who got away. He said several times during that week-long reunion that breaking up with me was the biggest mistake of his life. He said he wanted to meet my kids, see where this could go, all the right things - even if they did scare the crap out of me. But he said other things, also. On several occasions he said he was “confused”, that things were “complicated”, and that he was “conflicted”. The three-C’s of budding-relationship death. But your girl, Juliet? She didn’t want to hear any of that.

But he flat-out said it. He felt guilty being with me. Guilty - I can only presume - because he knew that if Rosaline was aware of what was going on between us, she would be hurt. Now, just because Romeo has respect for someone’s feelings doesn’t mean he’s still in love with her, but that’s not nothing. And let’s not forget, he said he was “confused”. Confused about what? Whether or not he should leave her? If he still had feelings for her? If, maybe, she actually could be the one?

And why not? They share the same political views, and when you’re a republican in Los Angeles, that’s definitely something to consider. I mean, sure, there are a handful of them here, but when you work in entertainment, as Romeo does, you’re not going to meet a whole lot of folks who use the words “Antifa” and “Black Lives Matter” in the same sentence. Now, I don’t know the depths of Romeo’s allegiance to his new party of choice, or how much of the radical ideology he agrees with, but I do know that if its enough to necessitate a partner of the same creed - Jerry Springer tendencies or no - Romes should stay put.

Perhaps he’s figured she’s a safer, easier bet than a newly separated mother of two who would unapologetically vote for Obama every year if it would do anything. Maybe the idea of possibly getting herpes from an old flame who isn’t looking for commitment didn’t sit so well with him after a few days. That, or the fact that I refused to take my bra off, and said he’d never get to see my sad, sad tits without major reconstruction… Honestly, the possibilities are endless. I’m an attractive woman on the brink of real success, but I also have a lot of… fuck, I don’t want to say it… baggage. I do. I have a whole, hotel dolly full of dirty, traveled, overstuffed baggage.

I know I’m awesome… or, at least, I know I can be… but I wouldn’t blame Romeo if he decided I wasn’t worth the struggle.

But I might blame him for going back to a woman who shamelessly posted horrible comments on pictures of my children - particularly since she had no idea Romeo and I had actually seen one another face-to-face, let alone messed around. A woman who contacted my ex husband to express her “concerns”, and one who kicked Romeo out of the house for texting someone, forcing him and his cat onto a friend’s couch. (Yes, it appears Romeo is a bachelor with a cat… this will be addressed at a later time, you betcha.) Not to mention that he told me how unhappy he’s been, and how he was about to settle, resign himself to a life of ho-hum complacency and bickering, until he saw my e-mail…

Yes, I would blame Romeo for going back to Rosaline, if that is, indeed what he has done. Because, I can tell you first hand, dear Nurse, herpes is a fuck lot better than settling, and much easier to manage than a wasted chance at happiness.

Romeo, you don’t have to choose me. Baggage dolly, remember? But please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t choose Rosaline.


Nurse, I just realized something…

Because I have two Instagram accounts, I don’t actually know which one I was logged into when I checked on Romeo’s 2016 photo a few days back… It is very possible that he did block me on Instagram back when Rosaline first confronted him, and not yesterday, as I’ve just spent this entire post imagining. If that is the case, then all of these musings are for naught, and the game is still afoot. But if I was logged into my personal account a few days ago, and he did just block me yesterday, then Rosaline is most definitely still in the picture.

God damn it, I just don’t know! Stupid dual Instagram accounts…

Ugh, I am so mad at myself.

See? This is why I need to stick to the program. No. Contact. What. So. Ever. No cheeky fucking social media posts, no Insta-stalking, no nothing.

Jesus, Juliet. Get your head in the game, will you?

But shit… until today, I never really thought he wouldn’t show up at the end of this… but there’s a real possibility, isn’t there?

Oh, show up, Romeo. Even if it’s just because you don’t want to stand me up…

Please, show up.


Sincerely yours,




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