I was eighteen when I first fell in love with him. I think I loved him before I had even met him to be honest. It was that first moment when I looked into his eyes, those eyes that were the color of a dolphin’s silky skin, when he stole my entire heart. There was no denying that I would do anything for him, that I would give my own life for him if I had to. He owned me. I knew he felt it too, that special bond we had right from the start. A bond that you only share when you are connected like we were. He was mine, and I was his. 
We became inseparable throughout the next few years. Not that I had anywhere else to go, he was the only one to love me unconditionally. I hadn’t heard from my parents since I brought him home to meet them three years ago. They turned their noses up to the sky as if they were too good to even look him in the eyes, to even acknowledge him. 
“Mom, Dad, this is Jason.” I remember telling them after they had opened the front door, looking at me with disbelief. Mom stood in her red silk robe, the sash tightly knotted on her hip. My father in his matching silk pajamas with the initials GJG embroidered over the left side of his chest, his arms firmly crossed over one another as he looked to me, then to the person I brought home. I stood on the white porch steps with Jason beside me. It had been six months since I had run away and left without any word to them. News stations showed my picture for about a week and my face popped up on multiple social sites, but the police pushed me to the back of their files as a runaway, and didn’t put much effort into finding me. It was for the best. If I had come back home, I wouldn’t have Jason next to me now. I knew for a fact my parents wouldn’t have allowed it to go any further. I had been living in a hotel not too far from them for a few months before I went back to my parents. I still had my debit card they had given to me years ago that I used. Being the daughter of a big shot Governor had its perks, but thats exactly why I had to run away. I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t show up at the door to my hotel room, even though I have no doubt in my mind that they saw the withdrawals from the account coming back to the Inn just miles from their own home. My disappearance gave them the sympathy of the fellow North Carolina citizens. It would give them a foot ahead of the others when the Presidential campaigning came around. I knew my parents loved me, but I knew they loved money and power more. 
I tried my best to keep my voice from cracking as I introduced Jason to them, not wanting them to know how much I feared their rejection. I walked in with him and shut the door behind me. Jason didn’t make a sound, which was odd for him since he had no problems in telling me everything he thought when we were at home. He most certainly felt the disowning vibes my parents were sending me from where I left him in the voyer, just a few feet away. 
“Are you out of your mind?” My father spoke through his clenched teeth. “Do you have any idea what reporters will say if they find out you showed up here after six months with...with…” he paused, obviously sickened by the mere thought of Jason. “...with him.”
“Now darling, don’t get yourself worked up now. We have press interviews tomorrow and the charity ball to attend in the evening. You don’t want to look stressed for the cameras dear.” My mother ran her manicured hands up and down his arms, not paying any attention to me as she tried to calm him down. 
I shook my head in awe, as I stood there watching my mother care and nurture him, as if he was injured and wounded in battle. Realization hit me like a ton of bricks to the head. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had stayed those months before, or left like I did. Regardless they would have forgotten about me eventually with the elections coming and all the preparations that came along with it. I remember looking over at Jason, and smiling in the midst of my mother coo-ing to my dad, and hearing her sniffle to herself, crying over the fear of reporters rather than for the happiness of having their child alive and well come back home. Jason looked at me in that moment and smiled back. Looking up and closing my eyes, I silently thanked the heavens they sent me him, like they knew I would need someone to love me back the way I should be. I made an oath to myself that I would live my life and be happy, and that I would love Jason with all I had, for the rest of our lives, with or without my parents consent.
Without a word I turned on my heels and went back to the door. Grabbing Jason we left the house and started down the sidewalk towards my car, the one my parents gave me as a sixteenth birthday present, when they still loved me and didn’t have their eyes on the White House just yet. I heard the door open up behind me and my mother calling out my name. My stomach flipped and my heart started beating in overtime at the thought that my parents would accept Jason and I. Quickly I turned around, giddy with my own thoughts. My mother with her arm extended out to me, showed no emotion on her face.
“Isabelle, we need your card. We will no longer support you if this is what you choose to do with your life. If we knew this is what you were doing we would have taken it away sooner.”
I stopped mid step, appalled at what I had just heard. Grabbing the card from my back pocket I tossed it like a frisbee towards her, not bothering to place it into her opened palm. “It’s not your money I wanted anyway.” She acted as if I had slapped her in the face, like she hadn’t seen the neglect over the past couple years. 
After I got into the car and my mother was out sight from my rearview, the waterworks started. “I’m so sorry Jason. I was really hoping they would love you like I did, but it’s okay. We will be fine just you and me. I promise.” Tears clouded my vision as I said those words to him. I hoped it was the truth. As much as I said I didn’t need my parents it hurt like hell to know that they didn’t need me, because in reality every child needs their parents to love them and care for them. But what was worse, was that if my mother had said for me to come back inside, I would have been there in a heartbeat. 
So now as I sit here thinking of that moment my body fills with hatred for the fact that over the past three years my parents had not once reached out to me or tried to contact me. The fact that I had to babysit from my loft apartment just to makes ends meet since I had no other options at the time. But nothing bothers me more than the fact that I still need my parents, especially right now. 
I look down at my hands that are still cut and bruised. You can see where the nurses tried to put the I.V. into my right hand a couple times before finally getting it in correctly. Jason’s hands are under mine as I squeeze them, hoping by some miracle he feels me and squeezes back. Just like the other umpteenth times I have tried there is still no response. The nurse comes in and checks his lines and tubes, changes out the empty bags for fresh ones and makes notes of his vital signs on her high tech handheld tablet. He has a breathing tube down his throat now, they are still unable to take it out. I can hear the hissing sound of the ventilator as it pumps air in and out of his lungs, moving his chest artificially. 
“Still no changes hun.” Her southern accent is filled with regret and sympathy as she smooths out the wrinkles in the white hospital blanket that they have over him. Her eyes barely reach my own before she gives me a polite nod and leaves. Sandy is the night shift nurse that we have had for the past four days. She has been nothing but caring and helpful during this time, bringing me coffee or food on many occasions since I haven’t worried about my well being at all. The other nurses have been just as helpful throughout our stay. We have been in the hospital now for a total of two weeks. They tried to keep me in a separate room, but after screaming at them, the doctors agreed to put my bed in with Jason. I wasn’t about to be without him. 
I have technically been discharged for two days now, still trying to comprehend what my life will be like now. I know I have months of therapy ahead of me. Days, months and perhaps even years of anger and guilt to overcome. The doctors said I was lucky. I could have smacked the man in his face after he told me that. How can he call this lucky? How can he call the feeling in my chest when I look at Jason lucky? I would give anything for this feeling to be gone. 
I run my fingers through his dark, dry hair. It used to bounce as he walked and I loved messing it up, only for it to go right back into place afterwards. His eyes are closed as they have been the whole time we have been here. I long to look into his eyes again so I can melt into the ocean that is in them, and bask in the love that pours into me. I run the tip of my finger down his nose, the one that I demanded give me eskimo kisses everyday. His cheeks are still marred with black and blue bruises, some turning that ugly yellow color now. No marks or bruises can take away from his beauty though, he is still the most amazing human being I have ever laid my eyes on.