“Hey,” Jay sings out, stressing the dissonance between ourmental states.
He closes the door as I pretend to wake up. “Oh, hey,” I fightto say.
He eyes me uneasily. He can tell something’s wrong, and I’mpissed at how shitty I am at keeping this shit from him. “You okay?”
“Just got a headache. I took some ibuprofen.”
It’s shitty to lie to him, but I won’t ruin tonight. This wassupposed to be a fun-filled date where we would laugh together and forget aboutall this shitty stuff. But now here it is, right in my face, torturing me.
“Okay,” he says as he approaches and leans over the couch,offering a kiss.
I reciprocate, but I can’t offer him the sort of kiss I usuallywould. I’m too busy fighting this demon within me.
He notices and pulls away. “Sorry,” he says. “You need me to getanything?”
I see the same look in his eyes that I used to see in Melanie’s.Helplessness. Worry.
He wants me to open up, but he doesn’t want to push.
I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to spoil everything.And that’s all that my goddamn brain seems to do. Spoil shit.
“I’m good,” I say even though I’m far from it.
He twists his lips into a wry smirk. “Okay. I’m just going toshower up and make some dinner then.”
“Just make yourself some. I’m not going to be hungry. Thank you,though.”
“Sure.” He heads on to the bedroom.
At least while he’s showering, I have a chance at recovering.Although I can tell by how powerful this is that I don’t have a chance ofgetting better. Not tonight. I have to find a way out of this. This isn’t likemy usual episode—the ones he’s seen.
It’s like the ones I had back when I was with Melanie. BecauseI’m not just reminded of what I did to her, but what I fear I’ll end up doingto Jay.
He’s had to help me out of my attacks on several occasions. He’sgood at it. He’s amazing. And I know he would be understanding about tonight,but he shouldn’t have to be. He shouldn’t have to live like this. He has hisown problems. He shouldn’t have to take on my demons, too—these demons that cancreep up at any time and take what should have been a fun moment and turn itinto something dark.
I knew this moment would come.
I kept warning myself, but I was so greedy to enjoy him that Iwouldn’t let myself fully consider the consequences.
A horrifying realization hits me. One I’ve known all along, butwhich in my emotional state and dread regarding the letter from Melanie is onlyamplified:
I could ruin Jay’s life. If he stays with me, I could jade himthe way I jaded Melanie.
I want him so much, though. Want him with every part of mybeing. It’s a selfish desire. I want him here because he makes me better.Because I want someone to soothe my pain. What do I really offer him? What canI offer him in the long-term other than the misery of having to nurse me backto health every time an episode like this hits me? When they become so severethat I can’t enjoy something I want to share with him so much? When I have tobe a witness to him slowly becoming more and more disheartened by our lifetogether?
I remember how alive Melanie was before I went to Iraq. Her brightsmile. Her zest. Her playfulness.
We had the same sort of frisky fun together that I now sharewith Jay.
But then there was the defeated look in her eyes before sheleft. Those dead eyes, nearly as dead as mine because of how I killed her soulmore and more every day. When she’d given up on crying or pleading for me toget help. When I wasn’t sure she even believed she could be happy ever again.
To think I could do that to Jay—that he could wind up as sad andmiserable and that I could let him do that like I did with Melanie—tears meapart.
As much as I want to believe I’m better—that things havechanged—this reminds me it’s not true.
This will never go away. It can’t. This is a part of who I amnow, and I’ve known it all along.
Some romantic part of me wanted to believe that Jay could makethis go away. Could heal all these internal wounds. But that was just afantasy.
