My knees were pulled close to me, with my chin resting on my knees. I rocked back and forth, listening to the woman babble. When the woman touched my shoulder, I shied from it cringing closer to the corner of the counselor woman’s office. I heard the woman’s voice, but couldn’t comprehend. He was gone, Jason was gone. What could I have done differently? I tried to listen, straining to hear his engaging deep voice. Nothing. Tears welled into my eyes as for I knew it was my fault. Jason was dead, because of me. I thought about all that had led up to it, the fight, and me leaving him. Why did I leave him? The woman’s nasally voice broke my thoughts, with her same repetitive questions. “How did this start? Why was he depressed?” And more nonsense like that. I knew that it started because of me.

I luved Jason and we tried dating. I remembered when my sweet little angel Jason, trying to ask me out. “Hiya Laynie! How goes things?” He babbled on for about five minutes, until I pecked him on the cheek, and answered his too-chicken-to-ask question. “Yes. Dinner, at seven.” We both were sophomores in college, I a year a grade and started college at seventeen!

I mean, it is common for a couple to have a few squabbles and fights, but Jason and I… all we EVER did was fight. Now, don’t misunderstand, I luv Jason, and he luved me. Jason had mood swings and it would get a lot worse when his depression worsened. There would be days, when I would go to class and he would be “absent”. I would go to his dorm and he wouldn’t get out of bed. He wouldn’t talk to me, he wouldn’t eat. Just when I thought it was so bad, I was going to take him to get help; he would bounce back, and be ok again. He would smile and laugh and begin to have life within him again. And on his rampage of crashing back into the same depressed routine he would get mad, and say “No one luved him, and that no one cared about him.”

Jason was a very sweet guy, and in all of his anger and depression, he never would raise a hand. That was part of the reason I thought he would be ok. I thought, he wouldn’t hurt anyone or himself. When I would upset him by telling him, that he should stop or listen to me, or anything contradicting, not once did he raise a hand, throw a thing. Jason was a peaceful guy, fun, and luving.

One day I came to his dorm after my four classes and he was asleep in his bed. I had to copy the key to his dorm, because when he was sad and depressed he wouldn’t open the door or get up for anyone, just like today. I brought Jason and I some late lunch and was telling him of my day, and brought him his class work. I had to tell him of what the teachers were thinking. I tried to help him, I really did. I mean, I got all of his homework for him, and turned it all in. He was much to smart to actually need help. But people, especially teachers were beginning to wonder. I told him, in the only way I knew how. “Jason, people are worried about you. Everyone asks me where you have been. I can’t keep lying for you sweetie.” He got mad, and turned to his other side, so as not to face me, and refused to talk. I sat there for maybe an hour waiting, and nothing. I assumed he fell asleep when I got up to leave. I left and went to give one of his teachers an assignment he had finished. I knew what I needed to do.

Our relationship had been in the hole for over six months, Jason now twenty-one and I, twenty-two. I thought we both knew it was pretty much over. I didn’t want to leave him, but I was so sure he would be ok, between relapses of depression. Maybe I could help him get back into classes, I thought (trying to be optimistic.) I talked to the teacher whom had informed me, that Jason had missed so many classes that he was going to be kicked out soon. The teacher asked me to inform him, seeing I was the only one Jason talked to. The teacher had no way to contact him, that part was all on my shoulders. I decided to let Jason sleep the rest of the day and talk to him about his classes tomorrow. I was told to not put off the inevitable, as I knew our relationship was, but it was too hard.

The upcoming day, I went to my classes, only to find out that I had a C in my main engineer’s class. That class was most crucial, and I was (in my mind) failing. I went and collected Jason’s homework, for it had become routine for me now, and went to talk to Jason about his classes. I opened the door, and he didn’t even look up. He had improved though. At least he was on the couch reading, which meant he was coming back into a high. I set his homework on his coffee table and sat across from him, waiting for him to look at me. I could tell something was on his mind, and it was troubling him, so I waited patiently for him to be ready. After about five minutes he gently marked his book and set it on top of his homework and looked at me, and tried to smile. If there was one thing about Jason that killed me, it was that he tried so hard to be happy, he did. He could never muster where the rest of us were normally, but he always tried. I set my hand on his knee and smiled back. I told him, that we should go somewhere tonight, maybe a movie, instead of what should have happened. He shrank back into his chair, and I changed subject quickly. I had forgotten that he was not ready to go into the real world again. I told him I would pick up dinner and bring it over and we could watch a movie and do homework over here instead. He smiled and we both agreed that would be best. I made him tell me one thing he had done that day, to work on his social skills. It was hard for Jason to pop back up into the real world after a moth relapse. He managed to say he enjoyed the new book he ordered, and that was all I got out of him. I left for my dorm, only to kick myself for not telling him what was on my mind.

He needed to know that we were over, he needed to know he was going to be kicked out of class, he needed to know he needed help, all of which, I couldn’t tell him. That night I showed up with pizza and a movie. We watched in silence, until he picked up my hand and held it in his own warm, delicate, little hand. I looked at him, seeing the pain in his eyes was not enough anymore. I was mad about my grade, and mad that he was pulling me down. I stood up, and turned off the movie. “Listen Jason…” I began. He looked at me with honest eyes and nodded for me to continue.


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