Dear Rob, she may be over you
(This makes me sad but here at LTR we like to represent all sides of the fandom, from the recently deflowered to the waning Robsession. We still love ya Rob!)
I think it’s officially happened. I think I may be over you.
This is a hard letter to write, as most break-up letters are, so let me give you a little history before delving into the really painful stuff.
Let’s back up to 1998. I was your typical high school junior swept away in Leo Mania post-Titanic (you catch that little play on words there, Rob? Swept away? You find that sort of sh*t funny, don’t you?) Okay, maybe I wasn’t exactly typical, persay, but I bet I could have found a Leo contingency who’d have said “that’s normal” about my 8 trips to the theater, my purchase of not only every teenybopper mag with his face on the cover but also the lame-*ss “Making of Titanic” collector’s book just so I could eek out a few more pictures (98 was largely pre-internet for me – how did obsessions survive?), and one precious VHS, yes VHS, tape on which I recorded every single nightly entertainment show segment that even mentioned you. I believe my high school boyfriend’s exact words when he found said tape were “you have a problem.” But it was worth it. I mean that Oprah interview? Where when asked the question about offscreen feelings Kate so diplomatically said “I believe the Rose in me fell a little bit in love with the Jack in him?” Ehem. That is how you respond to that little inquiry from Oprah. So tasteful. No weird male pregnancy comments. Anyway, moving on…
I was obsessed. (Leobsessed?) Twelve years later, Leo barely gets a second look. I mean in that way. I still smile when I hear his charismatic words, but these days I go to see his movies for his acting. Perish the thought… Hell, even my husband finds him to be a respectable actor. (But he doesn’t know about that VHS tape.) I don’t remember what it felt like when it actually hurt a bit to see him with whatever model was on his arm. I don’t remember what it felt like to lose my breath the first time Jack Dawson glanced up at that huge ocean liner.
And I fear that you and I, Rob, are heading down the same path. I’ve been worried about this for some time now (and sometimes I get the sneaky suspicion that the girls at LTR are harboring the same fears), but this week it was confirmed. I saw a picture of you in your boxer briefs. And nothing else. You. Half-neked. Boxer briefs. Getting wet. A year or two ago at this time, my week would’ve been shot straight to sh*t. I would have spent an entire day a) staring absentmindedly at that shot b) emailing my fellow Robsessed about it and making lewd puns and c) casting work aside to GET SERIOUS about how I could rationalize a trip to Louisiana to just finally freakin’ meet you and move things forward already. Now? I looked. I appreciated. And I… waited. I waited for that feeling. The giddiness. The shortness of breath. The words “holy effing sh*t” literally falling from my mouth in an empty house/office/whatever the way they used to. Because 12 years post-Titanic, apparently I had barely matured a smidgen. But nothing happened.
Speaking of…. following jumping Rob for the rest
It was really disappointing, Rob, because I have always enjoyed the Robsession. Sure, sometimes it got in the way of real life. Sometimes a husband discovers a stash of RP fanfic on a computer and has words WAY worse than “you have a problem.” Sometimes work got brought home because I spent too much time during the day ogling you and g-chattin’ in up about ogling you. But it was a fun habit, a dirty little secret, and sometimes you just want a little escape from the real world. And now it seems to be moving on, or perhaps I’m moving on from it. I mean, last year at this time, I had not one, but two 2010 Rob Pattinson calendars in my possession. Here it is November and I have nada. And I don’t think I’m gonna get one.
I’ve thought long and hard about why my feelings have changed, and at first thought it had something to do with your relationship-for-lack-of-a-better-word. Because call it what you will, PRsten, Robsten-lurve-forever, a bearded situation… I just hated seeing you turned into a caricature of yourself and seen more as part of a celebrity couple than a quirky individual (but I know, you hate that too). And then I thought maybe, just maybe, I’d OD’ed. Maybe I’d watched too many interviews of you giggling, reviewed my collection of “hottest pictures” one too many times, or cued up Biel more than I should have (Biel… I got your back, baby). But at the end of the day, I realized it may just be this: it’s been TWO YEARS, Rob. Two years is a long time to foster an obsession, particularly when, ehem, you don’t actually know a person and there’s no interaction in return. Maybe, just maybe, it’s dying down because that’s the natural course of things. And it’s time for me to move on.
It doesn’t mean I won’t look. It doesn’t mean I don’t still wonder what the h*ll the word “outtake” means when I see you suited up for TV Guide. It doesn’t mean I won’t be in the theater for BD on opening weekend. But see that, I said opening weekend. Maybe I’m too old for midnight shows, or maybe I just don’t have the drive to get there. Don’t worry too much though, Rob, because I still believe that one day in the future, I may be going to see YOUR movies for the quality performance of a respectable actor, and not just to squee over Hollywood’s hottest heartthrob. And I can say this to you because I know that’s exactly what you want. You want us to stop viewing you in the way we sometimes do, and be able to judge you beyond that. In fact, I believe right now you might love me more than ever. (I probably could still be cajoled into a dumpster rendezvous if you asked really nicely.) So don’t you worry too much, because I’m pretty sure I’ll always smile fondly when I see something new you’re up to, and I’ll still look twice when your hot self graces the cover of a magazine. I’ll always remember the good times we shared – thanks for bringing so much entertainment and sheer sexy into so many of my days. And I promise you Rob, I won’t ever let go and my heart will go on.
Awwwww Jillian we love you even when your love is waning and we admit too, it’s hard to sustain an nonreciprocal love for 2 years but it still makes me sad. Does it make anyone else sad or make you want to hug your fellow Rob fan?