Despite my warnings, Jeremy accepted the new job. He still made deliveries, but we had less time together at work, and so we hung out after school more often to make up for it. I’m slightly ashamed to admit it, but our relationship became much more physical after that night. The emotion was still there, it wasn’t meaningless. It was as if we were making up for lost time. But I felt a strange guilt for being with Jeremy. I had never told him how I felt about love.
I didn’t believe in it.
I believed in the the love of friendship and the love of family, but I didn’t believe in relationship love. That kind of love was really only lust. Jeremy and I were best friends with lust mixed in. Maybe that is the love that inspires the best in us, but to me, it was just the love of frienship, with a hint of desire. If it was possible, I would have stayed with Jeremy forever, but that would have been the fruition of the impossible. Eventually one of us would find someone else, or move on, or die. I knew this fact, but could not accept it.
To avoid talk of the inevitable, we instead talked about the kind of things teenage girls talk about, or if we were feeling hopeful, we spoke of moving to Canada and escaping our ghosts. We talked about leaving the business and running away together, but we both knew that if we did that we would have to spend the rest of our lives in hiding, and would most likely be hunted down and killed.
We watched movies together and baked brownies. Sometimes we would take the night off and Jeremy would spend the night at my house. My parents loved him, but they only knew him as Aimi, they didn’t know both sides of him. It always seemed to rain when we did this, so we would go out and walk in it. At night, we would fall asleep in each other’s arms. I never had to fear sleep when he was with me, he chased the nightmares away. In the morning, I would cook breakfast. Usually bacon and eggs. I remember laughing when Jeremy told me that he had never had an over-easy egg before. I made him one, but he didn’t like it, so I ate it. Whenever one of my parents drove him home after one of these events, neither of us spoke on the car ride to his house. Parting hurt because we never knew what might happen.
Despite all this, things weren’t all that easy or happy. Jeremy was bipolar and had horrid mood swings. I tryed to be patient with him at such times, but he could be downright hateful. We both had drug problems, so when one of us hadn’t shot up for a while, the other one was stuck dealing with a very unpleasant human being. I also became aware that Jeremy drank a lot. He was mean and slutty when he was drunk, and many times he said horrible things to me, but he never laid a hand on me.
Some other things began to surface as well. I found out that Jeremy had been having sex with random people even while we were dating. It hurt me, but I knew he was only trying to feel some emotion.
Despite all of this, he helped me in ways that no one else could. He tried to persuade me to quit heroin cold turkey. I couldn’t, so I lied and said I was clean even when I wasn’t. He knew that I was lying, but never said anything because he knew that I was lying for him. I would have gone on in that way, had it not been for a cold and rainy night in February, the twenty-eigth, to be exact.