Flashback...

I remember Jay in highschool, two lockers down from me, an entire year went by, he never even said Hello to me - He was part of the drug kids, which I guess, made him 'cool' back then - He went to field parties... I went to movies - He had house parties... I went hiking... He had a hard life - His mom kicked him out at 14, he lived on couches for a bit, did a few runs of smuggling coke over the Mexican boarder.  By the time he was 17, he had gone through school as an undiagnosed dyslexic, a huge disruption in the classroom... He dropped out, did not even attempt to get his GED... At 17, he found a job working construction, pushed for his Hazmat certification. He grew up fast. 

The summer that I turned 21, Jay and I were just really good friends.... I had met him at a party. He did not remember me, I remembered him... First time in my life, I had a straight guy friend and we had no weird, touchy, feely feelings attached.  We were together every day of the week after that - I was his wingman at the bar, we went clubbing together, we partied together, we watched out for one another.  On nights he could not drive, I would pick him up.  On days I was dead broke, he would buy me lunch..... Occasionally on nights we partied too hard. I would crash in his bed - I had my side. He had his, sometimes, we would stay up talking talking about life until the sun came up.

I loved those days.... sitting on his porch, cooking some BBQ, watching the sun go down...

The day after valentine's Day, all teary-eyed, I confided in Jay that I needed more love in my life, and he leaned over and kissed me all romance-novel-cheesey-like and said, "For the past year, you have HAD love in your life..." .... So began a whirlwind of a relationship...

The two of us were great together!  We did everything together, this time as friends and as lovers - Picnics at the beach, candlelight dinners and board games when his power got shut off, camping trips to the lake, long roadtrips through the mountains - We would lay around for hours, this time swapping sides of the bed... I was happy.  

We started dating in Feb but were falling apart by June - Jay was getting jealous.  If we went out and I talked to any other guys, he would get me in the car and scream at me, "You are such a fucking whore!  I should fucking leave you in the parking lot for that."  I would tell him that I did not want anyone else, and he would scream a lot, and then we would drive back home and everything would be OK again.... After the jealousy, came the lies - One day he came home and told me he quit his job... Later that day I ran into one of his work friends - He goes, "Man!  Did Jay tell you how he broke the boss's nose this morning?"  Sometimes he would lie about big stuff, most of the time it was small things.  If he ate a burger, he would say he ate a turkey sandwich - He would lie about stopping for gas or helping someone paint their house... or walking someone's dog... trivial, pointless nothings.  Perhaps he had always done it and I just never noticed, maybe it was a self defense mechanism that started up because of me, whatever it was - It was slowly eating away at the trust we had in our relationship.... The more he lied to me, the worse he felt, the more he drank, the angrier he would get.  I remember several nights where he put his fist through a wall and went speeding away in his truck, only to end up arrested somewhere for smashing someone's face in... I would sit home worried, phone in hand, speed dialing his mother to bail him out of jail....  He never hit me but those nights he would drink, he would become violent, dangerous towards others. I would watch him like he was a bad movie that I could not turn away from - "Is this the same person that I fell in love with?"  

Mid June I came home to find his doing a speedball with a bunch of his old drug friends, he said he was headed to Mexico to do another job with them.  "Fuck no you are not!"  I told his friends to get out of the house.... As they peeled out of the driveway, Jay was yelling at me again - His nose was bleeding, he was passing out, I got him into the tub and turned on the shower, he was puking all over himself, he was not waking up... I was freaking out - I couldn't call 911, he would be caught with a shit ton of drugs... he would violate probation and go to jail ... I knew him, he would rather die.

It was at that moment that I just could not do it anymore.... His problems were heavier than I could deal with... If he loved me, he would not put me in this situation.  If he loved himself, he would not be bleeding in the bathtub, covered in vomit... Obviously he needed help that I could not give him.  I called his mom, waited for her to show up, and with very mixed feelings, I packed up my things and left.