That evening, Thad shows up at the party. He and Jaye disappear together, of course to his bedroom. For a guy that’s supposed to care, all I’ve seen from him is the two of them shacking up.

When Thad is leaving one of the guys from our party gives him a hard time and I go to his rescue. It’s not because I give a fuck about him, but because I care for Jaye and I know he doesn’t want to deal with animosity. Besides, I was the one giving Thad a hard time last time. After this, we can call it square.

Our house continues to party another two nights. I don’t see Chelsea again and I don’t really care, I guess. Given that I’m about as off-putting as a bull in a rodeo, I spend most of my time playing beer pong getting other people drunk and then passing out by myself. Jaye spends some time with us, especially the first night because Thad bought a bunch of pizza for the party on his behalf, but Jaye otherwise does his own thing. He is the only one I know that can be in the middle of a house party and be perfectly happy throwing away empty bottles and playing house mom. He’s the type that goes around replacing solo cups of booze with cups of water for people that are so trashed they shouldn’t be drinking any more. He’s probably the single reason why we haven’t had any kind of overdose or alcohol poisoning here. He’s so damn responsible.

The next afternoon, everything seems to change. Jaye says he’s going to focus on his coding project. He’s working on writing some programming code for his degree which sucks up most of his spare time.

I don’t see him for two days.

By the third day, I’m worried about him. I’ve seen this before. I instantly blame Thad. Whatever he’s done has sent Jaye into one of his spirals.

Jaye hates it when we intervene. He can dish care out to everybody else all day long, but he can’t handle being on the receiving end when he isn’t receptive to it.

After ordering some Thai, I bring it up to his room.

I knock on the door. “Hey, Jaye. There was a mix-up and I ordered the wrong thing. I don’t eat this peanut shit.” I swing the door open. Jaye’s in bed, barely receptive. He hasn’t been eating. Now that I see him, I can confirm, he’s spiraling.

Goddammit! I’m going to kill that guy!

 Knowing the state I’d likely find him in, I have with me a bottle of water and an orange juice.

My heart cries for him. Jaye is too wonderful to be seen so demoralized.

I start with the water. I don’t know when he last ate or drank anything. Judging by the way he looks, I’d say it’s been a while. When he gets like this, he sips water sparingly and doesn’t eat anything.

It takes everything in me not to nearly drown him with the amount of water I wish he’d drink.

“Jaye, you can’t keep doing this.” My eyes tear up because there is nothing worse in the entire world than to love someone and be utterly useless in helping them. “Can’t you see what it does to the people around you?”

I don’t want him to worry about that, but maybe it’s what he needs to hear to stop him from doing it.

He sips the water and stares back at me, but it’s not him. Those aren’t the handsome eyes of the man I love. He’s hollowed out and suffering. I suffer right along with him. I always have and he has no clue.

This time, I don’t hide it. I let him see me fall apart next to him. My words come out as a blubbering idiot and I don’t care.

“Dammit, Jaye. You’re better than this. You deserve better than this.”

When he hones in on me and I recognize some semblance of him, I wipe my eyes and go back into tough guy mode. Maybe he was too out of it to realize.

“Kris?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, drink this OJ. It’s going bad so we need to drink it or it will go to waste.” I approach everything like he’s doing someone else a favor because he wouldn’t respond to it otherwise.

“Ok.”

With each sip, he becomes more and more present.

I weep on the inside. This is how Jaye copes with bad things. He stops eating and blocks things out until he’s no longer coherent enough to feel them. My blood boils at what Thad must have done. My first thought is that they broke up. That son of a bitch spouted all that love and care and still left Jaye ruined in his wake.

After a few minutes, I hand him a spring roll. “Here.”

“Kris?”

I’m livid and he can tell.

There’s no talking me out of hating Thad’s guts and wanting to end Jaye’s habit of older men. “Don’t Jaye. I don’t need fixed. Just let me be angry. So you know, if I see him again, I’ll kill him.”

“It’s not his fault.”

He defends the guy still!?

“Not his fault!? Bloody hell, Jaye! How wrecked do you have to be before you realize your tastes in men are complete shit? Nice guys your own age throw themselves at you and still you go after cocksuckers that don’t give a damn about you.”

“He does care. He loves me, Kris.”

“Loves you? Then where the hell is he? Because he sure as hell isn’t here looking after you, is he?”

“I told him to stay away.”

“Why, Jaye? Tell me what he did to you.”

“Kris …”

“Fuck you, Jaye. Eat or I’ll shove it down your fucking throat.”                   

I stand up and walk away. I’m so angry I can hardly see straight. I have to get away from him. I can’t take it. I can’t stand to watch as he does this to himself.

Outside, I smoke one after another. I’m not a chain smoker by any stretch of the imagination, but every bit of me is wound up tight. I feel like any little word or look will cause me to explode. I can’t stand it. I want to hit something, someone. I want to get on my bike and ride it at ninety miles an hour, trying to escape the shit feelings that come with watching someone you love repeat a pattern of self-destruction.

I rock back and forth, cigarette in hand. One of our other roommates, Romeo, spots me and bolts the other way. He’s a complete spaz, but at least he knows when to stay the fuck out of the way.

Why Jaye? Fucking why do you have to always do this?!