Jon Powell, Charlotte, Jessica Simpson

I need to get this over with: It's been a difficult summer, as my partner, Jon Powell, and I have been separated for much of it. We have recently agreed to end our union, which was just more than a year old.

This is not what I wanted. But I accept it. These are painful, horribly strange words for me to write, but I need to move on, and this is the best way for me to do it. It's now out there, something I dreaded stating.

When I mentioned months ago that I'd started smoking again...

...this was the reason why. And it's really interesting looking at the comments on the Kathryn Joosten piece I broke Monday, with many intolerant people stating such moronic things as Kathryn "caused" her own predicament by smoking for many years, and therefore the sympathy and increased lung cancer funding she was requesting should be denied her.

You folks sound like the same people who are joking about the fact that Jessica Simpson tweeted her dog was taken by coyotes, ripping her apart for being so dumb, "as if Coyotes read Twitter." (I'm incredibly embarrassed my own home, E! Online, chose to make a "dingo" joke at Simpson's expense, for the record).

Look, Simpson's suffered a domino effect of s--t in her life lately, think you could cut her some slack about losing the only decent thing she had going for her, her companion, Daisy? And it's ironic, too, that Joosten herself was less than benevolent when I told her I'd succumbed to the smoking demon again.

Guess what she said?

"Well, you can kiss your ass goodbye."

Lovely. I laughed, but inside, it kinda made me feel even crappier. People make mistakes, we have upsets in our lives and maybe we don't all behave so perfectly through them. Perhaps Simpson reached out and communicated the only way she knew how: somewhat naively. So rip her to shreds for it, right? I had a bad break with love. I smoked. So damn me, too, right?

Where's an Oprah show on indignant and glass-house bitching when you need one? Like to see what these judgers' lives are like when their personal crap hits the fan—or the Twitter board, whichever comes first.

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