Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down (down)
She shakes, blood pounding in her ears. She's not sure where they go from here. This time might be the end.
Jess had just walked out, slamming the door behind him. Rory supposed she was lucky they didn't live in a glass house, that the only thing she had to clean up from the aftermath of their blowout was dust from the ceiling and not the broken shards of their life.
They had been fighting a lot lately. If it wasn't over the guy at Rory's office trying to take her to lunch every day for the last month, it was over the bubbly blonde at the Truncheon pushing her book and her boobs at Jess's desk.
Rory sits down hard on their bed, which had been feeling more and more like her bed the last month. She doesn't understand. Everything about their relationship was right and intense and repaired with the time that it took them to grow up. The last eight months had been borderline magical; what had changed? Rory considers the nature of their relationship. Their connection was powerful, but that meant that when they fought, it was just as intense as anything else about them.
This was the fourth fight they'd had in the last two weeks; every time they made up, but it was exhausting. And this time felt different. Often Jess would walk out, but he never slammed the door. He was always careful about that, to not make it feel so final. But this time he had slammed the door, and Rory can hear the echoes of his anger reverberating off of the walls.
I'm trying not to take too much
I'm in over my head
Over love, oh I over trust
Give me the chance to pick up the pieces you left me in
He always apologized first. It was never that Rory was innocent in things - really, she had grown just as jealous as he had about their work situations - but she never walked out on Jess.
When they had first agreed to work things out, to try again after all of the lost time, a lot had been hashed out. Jess promised that he wouldn't run off on her again, wouldn't dip out when it mattered most.
But the last several fights, he had walked out. It always made Rory anxious; she trusted him with everything she had not to repeat the mistakes of his younger self. But seeing his back again, as she had so many times in her teenaged years, brought back such painful memories. She hated seeing him walk away from her. It always brought the chance that he wouldn't turn around again, wouldn't smirk at her with an intense look in his eyes meant only for her.
She sniffles, looking at her phone. She feels in over her head this time, hoping for some clarity on what's going on. What time was it?
Rory clicks her phone to activate the clock and grimaces. It's after 12; Lane would be asleep, as would the babies and Zach. Her mom might answer, but she didn't want to deal with her.
Lorelai had been less than thrilled at her and Jess's reunion several months ago. Oh she knew Lorelai wanted to be loving and supportive, but Rory knew better than to ignore the undertones of everything her mom said at the mere hints of relationship trouble. It boiled down to Lorelai believing that it was too soon to be in another relationship, not long enough for her to have gotten over Logan in the year she'd followed Obama's campaign. And moreover, Lorelai had never grown to become Jess's biggest cheerleader. It made it hard to talk to her mom about the relationship.
It had happened fast, Rory supposes now as she lifts herself from the mattress, treading heavily to the Keurig Jess had bought for her. But, she argues with herself as she had with her mom, there had been a lot of alone time on the trail. Time for her to think about what she wanted and time to be single. And as much as she pushed it away, there had always been something that drew her to Jess.
Rory shakes her head, grabbing a mug while the machine heats up. She checks her phone again. Where had a half hour gone?
Why did I let you in?
Overzealous, I'm over this
Oh I'm over us
Over and over
I let you under my skin and it's over
I promised never again you'd come over
Something takes over me
I can't control this hallucinogen
Rory stares at her coffee mug. The Keurig had been acting up the last week, not putting out the amount of coffee it was meant to. She narrows her eyes at the lack of coffee in her cup, bitterly observing the symbolism there.
She had never planned to let Jess back in. As a friend, sure, but not as the person she held sleepily in the morning, not as the person she clung to in ecstasy at night. Definitely not the person who bought her a coffee machine to help with her long nights as a reporter and column writer. It had just sort of happened.
Rory had been in Philadelphia, finalizing some things with the Inquirer. It had vaguely occurred to her to call Jess. She had no expectation that he would answer, and she certainly wouldn't have been shocked if the number had changed. After all, Rory's parting interaction with him had been to use him to get back at Logan, even if there were some parts of her that had wanted to know his taste again. But she considered that if he had been in Connecticut, she would hope that he would have called.
So she did, and he answered, and they talked. It was light and casual and Rory felt a little forced on his end, but Jess eventually agreed to meet with her at a coffee shop. He had walked in with the same lazy stroll he'd always had, smirked when he saw her, and sat down. What was meant to be an hour reunion turned into six hours of catching up, laughing, and too much coffee.
The next two weeks brought them spending almost every day together as Rory finalized her lease and set up her day to begin with the paper. The Saturday before her Monday start date began with Jess helping Rory to finish moving into her new place, and it ended with him helping her christen her bedsheets in the new era of her life. The rest had been history.
Rory abandons the coffee mug and paces around the room. She examines the life they've been building together, scanning the room.
There are scattered books strewn across the floor from nights spent reading and debating together. There are several coffee cup rings molded into the table from late nights spent writing, a knitted blanket haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chair they never used. (The blanket was a gift from Lorelai - more like a peace offering, Rory considers with a chuckle - and was the staple silent support they offered one another. If one was up late typing furiously at their laptop, the other would come over, drape the blanket over their shoulders, and head back to bed.)
There was the couch that was sagging on one side, which Rory loved. Luke had come to help Jess lift the heavier furniture pieces and they hadn't been able to agree on the position of the couch. Luke had dropped it on his side in frustration, and Lorelai and Rory had watched and giggled as the two men bickered. Later, Rory and Jess had broken it further doing... non-argumentative things, which had only made the brokenness funnier to Rory.
More and more memories flash before Rory's eyes as she looks at photographs, furniture, different rooms in the house.
Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down
Rory thinks of some of the highs.
The time that Rory had gotten bad feedback at the paper, Jess had come home to find her crying in the tub, taking the saddest bubble bath he'd probably ever seen. He'd gotten right into the tub after a brief debate over wearing wet clothes in October around their less-than-heated apartment. Nothing funny, nothing sexual - he'd just held her, let her lean into him, and stroked her hair until she had been ready to emerge.
The time that Rory and Lorelai had argued, pretty heavily, over Jess being back in her life. They hadn't spoken in a week, and it wasn't long after that that Jess had gotten fed up with Rory's skulking and personally driven her to Stars Hollow, locking her out of the car until she made up with her mom.
The time that Jess had gotten approval at the Truncheon to work on publishing his second novel, earning attention and excitement from the locals who couldn't wait. Never one for huge signs of attention, Jess hadn't made a big fuss about it. But when he'd come home and Rory had had a little surprise party for him, with all of the people he cared about in tow, Jess had actually appreciated it. He'd pulled her close and kissed her head, whispering to her how special she was to him.
Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down
And because she can't help it, given the current situation, she goes back to her coffee and tries the Keurig again to produce more caffeinated calm for her. Rory thinks of the lows, frowning.
The time that Jeremy and Rory had been laughing about something in the break room. He had been sitting too close to her for the last ten minutes, and she had been feeling uneasy about it. And of course, just as she had worked up the courage to ask him to move over, Jess had appeared, surprising her with lunch. He'd taken one look at Jeremy's arm on Rory's chair, another at Rory's panicked face, tossed the lunch on the table, and stormed out of the office. Rory had almost flipped the chair over from how quickly she got up to run after him, where he'd dropped venomous comments in the elevator before leaving her to stand there crying.
The time that she had come home earlier than usual to surprise him with dinner. Rory was by no means a chef, but she'd been watching a lot of videos to cook dinner for Jess. When Jess did come home, work hadn't been stellar with some needy author hounding him, and he hadn't really shown the excitement she felt her surprise warranted. Jess tried to communicate for her not to take it personally, but she'd blown up, accusing him of being selfish and always taking his bad days out on her. She'd locked herself in the bathroom for over an hour, forcing him to coax her out, long after she'd already decided to forgive him.
Tonight, where Jess had asked Rory to check his phone for him when he'd hurt it go off because he was expecting a message from Matt.
Rory sighs now, taking a sip of coffee to ward off the impending migraine.
She had looked at the message and it wasn't from Matt, but from the blonde bimbo Rory called Boobie. Rory had flared - why had Jess given her his personal number? Where were his boundaries? Jess had rounded on her, throwing in her face that he knew about her getting breakfast with Jeremy the other day when she'd sworn she had to go in early for a meeting. Both of them were overreacting; Jess needed to be in touch with Boobie because he was in charge of her case, and Rory had had to go in early for a meeting with Jeremy, because they were collaborating on a piece.
But it had spiraled and blown up and suddenly everything that had ever happened between them manifested into the biggest blowout ever.
He made her feel like she couldn't talk to her mom. She made him feel like nothing he did was good enough. He made her feel crazy and like she walked on eggshells with his moods. She made him feel like he had to drop everything all of the time to save her from her breakdowns. He had been the one to walk away. She had been the one to use him.
The list went on and on. Rory realizes now how hoarse her throat is from yelling. They'd never screamed at each other like that. And he'd never hit anything in anger before, but tonight he had. He'd punched the wall, Rory wincing from the mere sound of his skin splitting against the brick. They'd stared at each other for a moment and he'd given her such a dark, fierce look that it chills her now even thinking about it. He hadn't even grabbed his jacket before he went out, slamming the door behind him. The paint on the wall had spit out in dust particles around her.
What haunts her now isn't just his actions. It's the look and what it means to her.
We fight, we laugh
Detox, rehab
Letting go of what we had
Ohh, ooh ooh ooh ooh
Over trying
Over lies
Over crying
Over-traumatized
Over-worked and moreover I'm done
Over and over
I'm falling under your spell, call me over
I'm runnin' back to this hell are we over?
And didn't you say we were through?
Why can't I get over you?
Their fights always ended in makeups. They would fight, make up, and laugh afterwards about how silly they were. It felt almost therapeutic, feeling content with things being over and then elated to know they weren't. Even in the times they were both so over things - over trying, over crying, over being worked to death at their jobs and overwhelmed by each other at home - they were still so in love. Rory always knew there was something positive at the end of the fights, because they grew closer and learned more about one another, even if they were exhausting.
Rory smiles ironically, thinking about their routine.
He would come in when it was dark, usually three in the morning. She wouldn't be asleep, because she never could sleep after their fights, and would watch him in the dark. He'd look towards her, sigh sadly, and run his hands through his hair. He'd go to the old school coffee pot that didn't make noise, and get it going while she slipped out of bed. She'd walk over to him, wrap her arms around his waist slowly, and rest her head on his shoulders. He'd turn around, they'd share a look, and then they'd make love on whatever surface made the most sense in that moment.
Rory frowns. That intimacy hadn't happened in two weeks, not with the growing bitterness of the jealousy spats. She realizes this fight will also not have the passionate outcome she is accustomed to. She thinks to the brick wall that houses their doorway and a lump catches in her throat. She notices blood on the wall and puts down her coffee mug. She walks over and presses her hand against the wall, letting the warmth of him seep into her. Rory is certain in this moment how twisted this might look, knowing her mom would think she was cracked. But doing this helped her feel connected while she was feeling so far from him.
Jess would never harm her. Rory knew that. The punching of the wall had scared her, of course; nobody wants to see their partner angry enough to break something. But it was mostly because she felt like she'd pushed him there, that breaking point of hurt and desperation which she'd never seen from him. That scared her more than the act itself.
His eyes had said goodbye. That's what scares her the most. She knows that no matter how much they've been fighting, there was so much more to the relationship. Trust was always a hard thing for them; he'd never trusted the guys around her, and she'd seemed to trust everyone around more than she did him. But they'd been making leaps and bounds, hadn't they? No relationship was perfect, and the goods largely outweighed the bad. She knew fights were a healthy part of any relationship.
But their fights were just so damn intense! Rory knows there is nothing healthy about the way they'd been treating each other lately. She leans her forehead against the wall, allowing the coolness of the brick to soothe her aching head. She thinks about Jess, what draws her to him, and why they keep colliding in her life.
Things would be so much easier to just be done with him, done with everything. After all, he had an apartment of his own. Jess's name was on the lease. He just wasn't there. He preferred to stay with her, and Rory preferred him to stay with her.
Rory pulls her hand away from the wall and stares at it, the blood a horrific crimson against the pale of her fingers. Something in her snaps and she immediately takes to the kitchen table. She shuffles some papers from her latest piece and finds a few blank pieces of loose leaf. She leans over towards the counter, grabs a pen, and starts writing.
Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down
Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down
Boy I come crashing (crashing)
Down from the high and wondering (wondering)
Wondering why this ain't over
Let it just be over
Sobering thoughts taking over my mind
She feels like her head's clear. The words are pouring out of her as if she was born to write this letter to him. Maybe it wasn't her best grammatical piece, but Rory knows that the words are true and purposeful. If he came back to the apartment and she was there, she would hand it to him and tell him to leave for the night. If he came back and she wasn't - Rory had sporadically decided she would go for a walk to the local park after this was done -, he would have a letter and then he would leave and that would be it.
Somehow Rory knows it can never be this simple, but she hopes. Her mind is made up, despite how hard it is for her fingers to write out her thoughts. Her heart is beating a mile a minute, screaming at her to stop trying to rationalize things and to just wait for Jess. This can't be a decision she makes when he isn't there; it was too easy to walk away from him when she couldn't see his face, like she had when they were teenagers. Had Jess shown up at her graduation then instead of Stars Hollow a little over a year later, she might not have made the same decision she had back then.
But Rory allows her hurt and confusion to become the anger that fuels her. This is the sense she can make of things. Sure, things were great for the most part. Jess was so much more loving, kind, patient, giving, and forgiving than he was their first try. He made her laugh, and she rarely felt unloved or unspecial to him, even in their darker times. But Boobie wasn't leaving and neither was Jeremy, and it was clear that neither of the two could fully trust the other to accept that.
And if they couldn't really trust each other, what did they have?
She finishes the letter and stares down at it. Rory feels drained and sick to her stomach. On one hand, there's a fierce sense of accomplishment and finality, like she's closed this chapter of her life and can move on. On the other hand, she feels nauseous and like this isn't the right thing to do. But ever the thinker over the lover, Rory chooses to confidently fold the letter, shove it in an envelope, and write Jess's name on the front. She grabs a spool of tape and walks to the front door.
She would stick it to the door. That way he got the message loud and clear, and she wouldn't have to face him. Rory hears her mom making chicken noises at her in the back of her head and she frowns. She doesn't care if this is cowardly.
She marches up to the door, turns the knob and flings the door open. She freezes when she sees him leaning lazily against the wall right outside.
Jess looks surprised to see her, and they exchange a strange look. Rory doesn't know what time it is, but she wonders how long he's been there and how long it took her to write the letter. She notes that there is a bandage wrapped around the knuckles of his right hand, indicating that he'd probably went home to wrap it after he cooled down.
Rory notices that he's staring at her face and she wonders what he's looking at until he reads her confusion and reaches out towards her. She flinches and Jess looks like she slapped him, but he reaches out again and runs his rough thumb lightly across her cheek. The warmth makes her flush; when he pulls his thumb away he offers it to her, showing a smudge of black mascara coating his skin. Rory smiles sadly and shrugs.
Jess's eyes leave her and look to the envelope in her hand.
"That's for me?" He asks, his voice cracking a little. She can hear how hoarse his own throat is, practically croaking out his words.
She bites her lip and looks down, gripping it tighter in her hand. She looks up at him and nods.
He purses his lips and nods in understanding. She hated and loved that about him, his willingness to just accept things. She could never let things go.
He offers his hand out.
"Jess.." she whispers, shaking her head.
"Rory," he sighs softly. They lock eyes. "You wrote it, so you had to have something to say."
Rory realizes she doesn't want to give Jess the letter. That in spite of everything, in spite of feeling like she was drowning right now, just seeing his face erases so much of the anger and confidence she'd felt before.
She watches his face darken and he looks to the floor, staring at his feet.
"If we're breaking up, I want to know why, okay? The full why," he says just above a whisper. "Just give me the letter."
Her heart breaks hearing him say that. "Break up" sounded so final, so empty. They had never truly broken up. Just simply stopped being together. And that was how she had worded things in her letter, too; she hadn't explicitly wrote to break up, more to take time apart and walk away now before it got worse.
Rory realizes this letter needed to be written, but more for herself than for Jess. She knows that, now that her hurt is on paper, she can verbalize it to him and work through it. She just needed to do it. One month of crap shouldn't wreck eight months of pure happiness. She knows they are stronger than that.
"I don't want you to read it," she finally breathes out.
He looks up at her and gives her another look and nod of understanding. He uses his shoulders to push himself off of the wall and she drops the envelope to the floor.
Rory's heart thumps so loudly against her breast that she fears it might burst right out of her. As Jess closes the distance between them, he stops short of actually touching her. He leans his forehead down against hers, and they share a sigh.
"We're not good at this jealousy thing, are we?" He smirks half-heartedly with a chuckle. She smiles a small smile and shakes her head, moving his with hers.
"I'd say it's definitely the one thing we can't outsmart," Rory agrees.
Jess steps back to look at her. She avoids his gaze and he grabs her hand gently. He frowns and he ducks his head, forcing her to look at him.
"What did you do?" He asks concerned, pointing out the dried blood on her hand. She bites her lip and the tears she's been fighting well up again.
"I didn't," Rory admits, and the realization hits Jess. He lightly bites his lip before lifting her fingers to his face. He rests her hand on his cheek and she reacts instinctively, caressing his scruff with her thumb.
"I don't want to break my promises to you anymore, Rory," Jess says seriously, staring into her eyes.
"I don't want to help you break them anymore, Jess," Rory replies in kind.
The two stare at their feet while they steal glances at one another. It feels like they're seventeen again, unsure how to be in the same room as one another without blushing or saying 'hi' twenty times. Jess is the one who tires of it first.
"This is stupid," he says finally. Rory looks at him then.
"If we aren't gonna be together, we need to talk about it. And if we are, we still need to talk about it, because I never want to see you look at me the way you're looking at me ever again."
Rory bites her lip and nods, mulling it over in her head. The ball is in her court. She knows if she tells him it's over, he'll respect it. He was always that way. But as much as her adrenaline had pushed her to write this letter of finality, she isn't feeling it now. She just feels lost and scared and unsure where to go.
"Do you think it's as easy as talking about it?" She asks seriously, a tear betraying her and rolling down her cheek.
"No," he says thoughtfully, stepping closer to hold her face in his hands. He brushes the tear away lightly. "Usually the makeup sex helps."
Rory looks scandalized and hits his shoulder, laughing. The smirk she loves so much graces his face before it drops off. He searches her eyes.
"Where do we stand?" He asks softly.
Rory lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Being so close to Jess reminds her how little Boobie and Jeremy matter.
"Maybe we should talk about it over coffee in the morning," she offers in a voice just as soft. She notices how utterly exhausted she is and just wants the chance to sleep away some of the fatigue.
Jess steps back and looks pained. Rory never wanted to wait to talk about things; it could only mean less-than-stellar things on the horizon.
Rory's heart flutters in her chest. It was strange how seeing him so visibly distressed made her feel… loved. She had never seen him so seriously concerned. Rory considers that while she and Jess can often read one another, he can't actually read her mind. He doesn't know what coffee means this time.
"Here. In the morning here," she adds thoughtfully.
Jess noticeably relaxes and he runs his hand through his hair, wincing a little because he had instinctively used his injured hand. He nods once and backs away from her a little.
"When do you want me to come?" He asks.
It's Rory's turn to look pained, but she's honestly thankful that he didn't assume he was staying.
"Whenever we wake up is a fine time to talk," she offers with a smile.
Jess's face doesn't change but Rory sees a sparkle in his eyes.
"Are you sure you want me to stay?"
"I am," she says, nodding. She smiles at him mischievously and he raises his eyebrows.
"Besides," she adds, "didn't you mention something about the healing properties of makeup sex?"
It's all but two seconds before Jess crashes into Rory and the two are fumbling for each other's clothes. She cautiously pulls his shirt off his shoulders, careful not to tug his hand, but that's as much caution as either show after that. Jess picks her up and leads them to Rory's bed, their bed, all but throwing her onto the mattress before positioning himself on top of her. She pulls him in, wrapping her legs around him to eliminate any space between them.
The sun would rise on a new day and they would figure it out then. For now they were lost in each other, feeling closer and more sure of what they had than they had in a long time.
Rory lets herself get lost in the ecstasy of being close to him, knowing that how she feels with and about him far outweighs any turmoil they might face now or in the future.
Even when she wanted out, she wanted in. It was like a strange roller coaster, their relationship; you were afraid to get on but once you did, you couldn't wait to go again. Rory smiles because she can feel that this time is different; that, in spite of how much hurt they'd caused each other lately, they would come out in a much better place.
The morning after an overdose was always that much brighter than the darkness that had come before. If you got one.
Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down
Oh and I overdose
Boy I want off of this roller coaster
You take me high just to bring me down
Oh, and you bring me down