EDITED:
I've been in therapy for two years so far due to what happened, and let me tell you, it's shit. You just talk on and on, and that's if you talk. Otherwise you just sit there is dead silence. Truth is they don't care. What a surprise, right? And after my Thursday 7:00 P.M. session every week, my mom picks me up and drives us to an ice-cream parlor not far from the office, maybe three or four blocks down. I never enjoy getting an ice-cream here. It's not the flavors nor the rusty chairs, or even how the restrooms have non-operable sinks. It's the memories I had here. The memories I had here with Ashton.
Ashton Irwin: kind man, best friend, and boyfriend. We met at this ice-cream parlor. It's called La Rosa's, which is where my mom and I are currently. A tall male, maybe around 5'11" or 6' was ahead of me in line to pay for his frozen desert. After he had paid for his one double-chocolate scoop in a waffle cone, he spun around carelessly and bumped into me. His ice-cream spilled on top of my white lace top, awkwardly, the ball of chocolate hitting my left boob. I was pretty short so my boob was in perfect position to be a target. The cone didn't fall off my shirt until a few seconds after, which you might like is very little but it felt like hours. "You know there's a reason behind the sign that says, 'Please wait here'," Ashton spoke with a smirk plastered on his face as he pointed to the sign behind me. He was abashed mostly because when he tried to wipe some of the chocolate off my top; it looked like he was caressing my boob in a local ice-cream parlor. I can honestly say I was a bit irritated at first because of the whole chocolate-on-my-newly-bought-white-top accident, but after when he started getting weird looks from the customers in the parlor and repeatedly apologized, I gave in to this hysterical incident and started to laugh. Ashton repented cleaning my shirt.
But thanks to this, we started to hang out at each other's houses or go for a walk in the park, talk and get to know each other better. Ashton was 17, attended Richmond High School, he played the drums in a local band, his favorite show was Family Guy. He also loved Vegemite.
We started off as friends, but became something greater.
----
At one party that we went to, a beach party, I asked Ashton to be my "date" to the party because my ex-boyfriend, Dylan, was going to be there. Dylan cheated on me two days after I had refused to have sex with him. I was 16 and a virgin, I rather wait until I was sure he was the right one. And good thing I did. I was a hopeless wreck and felt so bad about myself when he cheated on me, but Ashton was always there to comfort me.
A few hours into the party, Ashton and I decided to part away from the drugs and alcohol for a while and just be alone. We walked along the beach shore talking about how our lives will be in 10 years from now.
"I doubt I would be a prostitute, Ash," I slurred due to the few shots I had.
"But you would make a good one," he pouted his lips, him too being a little tipsy. Everybody knew Ashton had a major crush on me at the time. Well that is, everybody but me. I always thought that he started acting a little different around me, not in a bad way, but more gentlemen-like. He started dressing nicer, wearing shirts without holes and rips in them.
"I haven't even had sex yet!" I exclaimed, trying to prove a point to him. My eyes went wide and so did his, but Ashton's jaw dropped, like he had just heard that Beyoncé fucked his dad.
"YOU'RE A VIRGIN?!" he practically screamed out. I bet people in China heard him.
I don't know why this is such a surprise to him. I mean, the only boyfriend I had was that douche, a.k.a. Dylan, and Ashton knows almost every piece of information there is to know about Dylan and I.
"Shut up, Ash." I mumble trying to keep in front of him to avoid eye contact with him at all costs. I was also very thankful that it was dark outside and almost 1 am, so he couldn't see how red my face was from blushing.
"You realize that I can take care of that for you", he spoke in the most seductive way possible. He was practically offering to take my virginity away at 1 am at a beach. I don't know how I coped with this guy for very long. But I can say that I do very much love him.
---
We would go to La Rosa's every Friday after school. He ordered the one double-chocolate scoop in a waffle cone, as usual, and I got one scoop of pistachio in a cup. He walked me home every Friday night to my porch, where I thanked him on that first Friday, where I kissed him for the first time, where my dad chased him down the road until Ashton got away and my dad couldn't keep up. Where I realized I was falling for him and there was no denying it.
Ashton had some days where he wouldn't want to speak to anyone, so he would slip on his pearly white headphones in both ears listening to punk/rock blasting at full volume. I was worried about him. I knew he was self-conscious and had a bit of a low self-esteem. Me being his girlfriend, I decided to ask him what was up.
"I hate my life. I hate myself for everything. I bring hatred and distaste for myself. Why do I do this?" Ashton had told me. He also spoke up about all the wrist bands he wears and why so many. I was astonished that Ashton was like that. He always seemed so happy and smiley. Giggles and giggles everywhere he went. Though I did noticed from time to time when Ashton was air-drumming, these two jocks would start laughing and kicking pebbles at him when they walked by. Ashton didn't get involved that much.
Don't say anything, don't do anything, and don't get involved and no criticism will be heard; or so he thought.
I told him one night that I was over at his house that I loved him and cared so much about him. To not let any of that crap get into his head and control him. He just nodded and hugged me extremely tight and secure, almost as if it would be the last time he'd see me.
6:34 A.M.
He let it get into his head.
I got a call a little over two years ago from St. Daniel's Hospital.
I rushed over to the hospital as quickly as possible, in my pajamas, taking my car keys, and hopping in my black accord. I could barely think straight. "Why would he do that? When did he do that? Why would he overdose?" The questions are swirling through my head like some hectic tornado. I didn't have time to think. I parked the car and rushed out, most likely forgetting to lock the doors. I scampered passed the automatic doors.
"Ashton Irwin?" I asked the lady in the front. "Are you family?" she asked quite obnoxiously. Shit. I've seen how this play out in those crime shows, like CSI; they only like to let in family members for some reason. I decide to say a little white lie.
"Yeah, sister."
"Room 132."
I finally reached the room and when I got there it was completely empty besides a doctor and two nurses.
"Um," I speak up, trying to get their attention.
The doctor and the nurses all turn to look to me. Then they look at each other's faces as if they have something to tell but none of them desired to say what they know.
"I'm sorry, kid," the nurse with the short but curly blonde hair speaks. Now I'm kind of hoping they didn't say anything at all and just kept it between themselves.
----
"Kaitlynd? Kaitlynd, honey...what flavor ice cream do you want?" My mom asks with worried eyes. I must have zoned out thinking about him.
"Huh? Oh, one double-chocolate scoop in a waffle cone."
