Thanks for reviewing, Jazz. I dedicate this chapter to you!

I've decided to name the titles of the chapters, from this point on, after songs I'm listening to at the time the chapter is being written. I like when authors do that, plus I'm awful at titling things.

"A Passing Feeling" by Elliott Smith is the song for today.

Stephenie Meyer owns everything, including my heart on ice in a cooler.

"Jasper?" I repeated, floored by the mere fact that he was standing in front of me. My son was home.

I couldn't remember the last time I saw him. He'd come and go the past…oh gosh, I didn't even know how much time had passed. I didn't even know what month it was. Being completely immersed in loss, I had failed to pay attention to the daily events of living, and, even worse, let time control me.

However long ago it was, I remember the occurrence clearly. Jasper left in a rage of fury and hurt. And I, being so selfish, didn't even stop him. I didn't bat an eyelash when the door slammed. Everything was 'Carlisle this' and 'Carlisle that' and 'I'm so sad.' In my self-centered state, I had failed as a mother. I had failed to help my child.

I flung myself off the floor and embraced my son. I'm almost positive if he was human, I would have crushed his entire body to dust in that one simple, loving gesture.

"Jasper, I'm so sorry," I breathed into his neck, still clinging on for dear life.

"Esme, don't apologize," he pleaded.

I pulled away and looked at Jasper. If vampires could look tired, Jasper would be the poster child for exhaustion. I noticed the creases in his forehead looked distressed, worried, hurt, angry. His mouth was turned down into a subtle frown, something that wouldn't be noticed through the blurry eyes of a human. His blonde hair looked like a mess of straw on top of his head, and I reached a hand out to push back a lock of hair that had fallen in front of eyes. I tried to give him a smile, something to comfort whatever distress that had befallen him, but I couldn't. I didn't remember how. I tried, but it was painful.

I sank back down to the floor again, wallowing in my own self-pity, ashamed. I hated my children to see me this way.

Jasper sat down next to me and rubbed my back. The motions were calming and soothing.

"Please, Esme. Talk to me," he begged.

"What am I supposed to say?" I gasped.

"Anything. Everything. I understand your pain. I feel it, too. I sit around crying, depressed, angry, numb, bitter. All the time, Esme."

Jasper's emotional pain came like a blow to the stomach. It would have knocked the wind out of me if there was any. I wanted him to tell me more. I figured if I told him a bit, he'd give me more of what I wanted.

"I feel the same. Some days I don't even move. Other days I walk around the house like a zombie. But all the time he's on my mind. I can't make it go away, and I don't think I want it to," I confessed. My chest loosened, however slightly, but it felt incredible. Sharing and telling and letting it all out was like nothing I had felt in the months, or it could have been years for all I knew, since The Day. I didn't know what else to call it, and I couldn't say that Carlisle had…well, you know. So I titled it simply, 'The Day.'

But Jasper didn't look like he was feeling up to sharing. I could tell he was holding back, and it's times like these I wish I could read minds like Edward. Why wouldn't he talk to me? Was I as equally frustrating?

"Jasper, what's wrong? I talked, now it's your turn."

He took a deep breath.

"I'm having some…problems. Issues. I don't know what you want to call them. But I feel like…what's the point of living without her anymore? I don't see one."

"That's how I feel all the time."

"I guess you could call it an existential crisis? I'm not sure. She was so good. Good to the very core of her being, and I couldn't understand why she would have me as her mate. I was a monster before I met her. She brought me to her level and to you all, and I never deserved it. But now with her gone, what's the point of being good anymore? She was the only thing that ever tied me down to this vegetarian lifestyle. She brought me here, and she's gone, so what's keeping me here? Why do I do this? I don't understand anything anymore."

Jasper was crying now. Gasping for unnecessary air. I knew, because I had been there before. I lived it.

I took him in my arms and rocked him like a child. I tried to comfort him as best I could without words. Because I didn't know anything I could say to make him feel better. There wasn't anything, really. So I sat there and rocked him back and forth. I felt a weight on my shoulders that had nothing to do with Carlisle. It was Jasper's weight. And Alice's weight. I started to mourn Alice for the first time since The Day. I had been so preoccupied with Carlisle that I had forgotten the precious child I had lost. These new weights weren't burdens, like Carlisle's. I felt pain, but I wasn't more sad. I was happy that I could share my pain and relate to someone, finally. I was glad that Jasper could talk to me and only me. I was ecstatic that by helping him, I could also help myself. And by helping myself, I could help him.

He finally pulled away from me and sat back on his heels. He looked a little better. Talking will do that to a person.

"I don't want to burden you," he began, but I stopped him.

"No. It's not a burden at all. You, my child, need my help. And I can give it to you. We can help each other, Jasper. So don't worry about making this hard for me. It's not."

"Talk," he stated simply.

I knew what he wanted. And I would oblige. If the healing process was ever to work, I would have to swallow my demons and let my soul out.

"First off, what month is it?"

"May," he said, "Esme, have you lost track of time that seriously?"

"May," I breathed. Five months since The Day. How could I have missed five whole months?

"Esme? Are you alright?" Jasper shook me out of my contemplation.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Are you sure you want to talk?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

I paused for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts, trying to form coherent sentences that could possibly make sense to someone outside of my mind.

"I spend my days begging for death. Most days I think about leaving this place, this dreaded, green, wet, place, and going to Italy. I think about getting down on my knees and pleading with the Volturi to just kill me. It's selfish, I know, but all I want is for the pain to stop. Why won't it, huh? It's May and I didn't even know it, Jasper. I had no clue that time had even gone by. It's become completely irrelevant and nonexistent! The only thing I have now are my memories. Memories of Carlisle, of all of us, happy. I get flashbacks of times Carlisle and I spent together. That's 85 years of memories, Jasper. We were together for so long, and it never occurred to me that he might ever leave. But he did. Not intentionally, of course. But still. He's gone and I'll never have him back!"

I was back to the standard position; legs curled up, arms wrapped around my knees, face down, rocking back and forth into a fit of hysteria. I was tired. I was tired of feeling like this. Tired of having no one in this world.

Jasper rubbed my back again, and it took a while, but finally I calmed down. I sat back up, ashamed at my outburst, and looked into Jasper's coal black eyes. He traced smooth circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, and calmed me down with his ability. I felt instantly better, but I knew that I wasn't.

"We can get through this. I can help you, and you can help me," he said.

And we started to. For hours we spoke about our issues, and we reminisced the old, happy, family memories. Anything and everything that was on our minds, we said it. No one could understand how good it felt. It was like a wave of calm, that had nothing to do with Jasper's ability, had rushed over me. I wasn't fixed. No, certainly not. But I was slowly repairing. It felt good.

I looked at the clock in my room and saw it was 3:14 A.M. I figured I was okay now, and we had been up here long enough that it was time to go downstairs.

We walked down the stairs and into the living room. Emmett was playing video games, shouting obscenities, at which I scolded him for, and Rosalie and Bella were playing with Renesmee. It was the first time in months that I had seen what a family we still really were. We wouldn't be whole again, but we were still a family. Edward appeared at my side, looking slightly bewildered, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Someone's at the door. I can hear their thoughts."

Muahaha! Who's at the door? Review the chapter and tell me your thoughts and theories!

Sorry it's such a short chapter, but it sorta just came to me that way.