From Under the Cork Tree

My depression lasted the longest since I had Jojo. I felt too tired to take care of her, let alone myself, but I had Rae. Rae woke me up everyday, made me shower and eat, though not before I took care of feeding and changing Jojo.

Rae really pushed me. Hard.

Slowly, as the days turned into weeks and then months, I forgot about the kiss, forgot about the pain, forgot about losing a part of me. Jojo brought me back up, pushing the fear away, making lots of room for love. I even dreading going to work because I would miss her, but she was in good hands with Rae.

When I was set to travel, Jojo went with me. She was a great distraction and all the musicians loved her. Jojo brought brightness wherever she went.

Still, when I was alone, I would find myself thinking about John, and then about Pete. Despite Rae still going strong with Andy, she never brought up Pete, and I'm not sure why. I've never questioned it. Even though I thought about Pete, I didn't make a move in contacting him, and he never contacted me. It hurt that I lost a friendship I was sure would last, but I didn't seem to care, the feelings didn't last long. The kiss was a mistake, he must've thought it...me, I thought it was amazing, but the buzz of that sizzled quickly.


The time slipped by so fast, it was as if a day last only a minute. Jojo's hair was growing longer and going blonde, she was cooing and babbling more often. She seemed like a pretty active baby at 5 months old.

With her getting older, my mind was on moving to New York. I was traveling there frequently and I wanted to get a different job. I wanted things to be stable and I wanted Jojo to spend time with John's family.

Aside from that, Rae had told me the guys were coming to record their new album in a studio near my duplex. I was afraid of seeing Pete and wondering why, the what-ifs. I wasn't stupid, I knew he was with a girl now, a famous girl, but I still can't help but to think maybe there was something. Pete was there when I needed someone, he knew me so well, I didn't even have to speak for him to understand me. I believe the spark I felt when we kissed is what kept me hanging on so long.

But, I didn't want to hurt myself wondering. John was it and now he's gone, and I'll walk this world alone. The universe just seemed to make it known.

I started moving just before August, getting nearly everything already in a loft in Queens. My parents had returned from Italy to help, more so in New York getting my place together. I felt more than ready to move on, to get my head together, no more men. My mind was made up, I was set to leave LA like I hadn't been there at all.


I handed off the last box to the mover and exhaled deeply. I was successfully moved out of my place; surprisingly I didn't feel sad. I felt as empty at the room was. I was numb. I couldn't believe it.

I had been prescribed Prozac for my postpartum depression by my gynecologist. She was there the first few hours I refused to see Jojo.

I hadn't ever taken pills before, but I heard it was like this. They breakdown, flow through your veins, into your head, in your brain, and make all the things that hurt seem insignificant. I took them everyday and things seemed calmer.

The voices in my head stopped ringing. John's corpse in his casket didn't haunt my memory. All that was in my head was Jojo, and it felt good, happy and all that I needed. The looped thoughts were gone, along the tears.

I moved around the room and touched the walls. I felt the carpet and ran my fingers through the brown shag. For a moment the stoic wall broke and all my memories of John flooded back. I laid on the floor and tell the memories wash over me.

As I did this, I didn't hear the door open, I didn't hear the screen snap close behind whoever was there. It was until the person put their hand on my shoulder that I broke free. I looked up and stop swirling my finger in the carpet; there he was, Pete fucking Wentz.