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Jason’s mama used to read to him before bedtime.
She used to read him stories about magic and princes and knights and wizards, and he loved every second of it.
There was a story she read to him once, about a little girl and a family who never got older.
“Why didn’t she drink the water, Mama?” Jason had asked her one night. “Why didn't she want to live forever?”
And his mother had looked at him with all the wisdom of the world in her eyes and said, “She would have gotten bored.”
Jason’s mama died three months later. He swore then that if he ever had the chance to live forever, he’d take it.
But here he is now. In the Good Place, the best place. And his mama is here, and so are his dad and his friends and his beautiful not-a-girlfriend.
His favorite people in the world are here, so why does he feel so empty?
He’s done everything he’s ever wanted to do. He’s been go-karting with monkeys, he’s played the perfect game of Madden, and he gets to spend the rest of forever with the not-a-girl he loves.
The thing that’s wrong with that, for Jason, at least, is the rest of forever.
On earth, Jason had been a strong believer in the fact that you only live once. Take risks, have fun, die young.
But Jason has lived thousands of lifetimes, both on Earth and off. And it’s been fun, but that’s not really what Jason’s about.
Once upon a time, Jason wanted to live forever. He was young and naive, with starry eyes and a mom who read him stories every night before bed.
But that Jason is gone.
He’s grown up, been replaced by a teenager left reeling after the death of his mother, replaced by a young man who lives every day like it’s his last, because for all he knows, it just might be.
Jason can’t live forever. He can’t drink the water. He can’t be like the family from the book.
He’ll be like the girl instead.
Jason has lived a long life, multiple lives, actually, and things are just like his mother had said they’d be.
He’s bored.
Even with the go-karts and the monkeys and Jason’s favorite people in the world.
He’s still bored.
“I’m leaving,” he tells his mama, when he meets her for dinner one night. “I’m going through the door.”
Jason’s mother nods. “You’re bored,” she says, and he can tell by the slight smile she gives him that she remembers reading him the book about the girl and the family.
“I’m bored,” Jason confirms. “I’m like the girl in the book, Mama. I’m not gonna drink the water. I don’t need to… I don’t need to be anymore.”
“You understand now,” his mother says simply, and Jason nods.
“Bye, Mama,” he says, and gives her a hug.
“Goodbye, iho,” she says, kissing him lightly on the forehead.
And they part ways forever.
It’s better this time, their goodbye.
This time, Jason’s ready.
He’s not young anymore, not a starry-eyed little boy. And he might be naive, but there are a few things Jason knows.
He knows that he loves his friends, loves his family.
He knows that he doesn’t want to keep walking through his days with no purpose.
He knows that he loves his friends, and that even more than people are, love is everlasting.
So he’ll be the girl in the story. He’ll throw away the water and run through the door without even looking back.
Jason won’t exist anymore, but his love will be around forever.