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And here he is again, yet things feel like they'll never be as easy between us as they once were.

Jay Asher

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Jay Asher
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: September 30
Novelist
Writer
Arcadia
California
Easy
Feel
Feels
Things
Never
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It's nothing. A school project. My go-to answer for anything. Staying out late? School project. Need extra money? School project.
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I sat. And I thought. And the more I thought, connecting the events in my life, the more my heart collapsed.
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I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you're listening to these tapes, you're one of the reasons why.
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My breathing begins to slow. The tension in my muscles starts to relax. Then, a click in the headphones. A slow breath of air. I open my eyes to bright moonlight. And Hannah, with warmth. Thank you.
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Yes, it feels great to plan your life when you believe everything can turn out fine. But what about when you're shown, again and again, how little control you have over anything? No matter what I do to try to fix my future, it doesn't work.
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Do you remember the last thing you said to me? The last thing you did to me? And what was the last thing I said to you? Because trust me when I said it I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say.
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Whenever I'm out late she makes a sandwich for my school lunch. I always protest and tell her not to, saying I'll make my own when I get home. But she likes it. She says it reminds her of when I was younger and needed her.
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That's why you did it. You wanted your world to collapse around you. You wanted everything to get as dark as possible.
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I left. When I should have stayed.
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Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don't understand. Thoughts that aren't even true—that aren't really how we feel—but they're running through our heads anyway because they're interesting to think about.
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God, I am freaking out. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I just look guilty of something and he’s picking up on that.
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And as I stood there in the hallway―alone―trying to understand what had just happened and why, I realized the truth: I wasn't worth an explanation―not even a reaction. Not in your eyes.
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I wanted people to trust me, despite anything they'd heard. And more than that, I wanted them to know me. Not the stuff they thought they knew about me. No, the real me. I wanted them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships I once had, or maybe still had but that they didn't agree with.
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But they were wrong. There was a reason.
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And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.
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Because it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.
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I decided to find out how people at school might react if one of the students never came back.
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And what if in the future we're at war again, or we still haven't elected a non-white or non-male president, or the Rolling Stones are still dragging their tired old butts on stage? That would depress me way too much.
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How many times had I let myself connect with someone only to have it thrown back in my face?
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