Anonymous

Was I over you? No, not by a long shot. Nothing changed in a year, except the look on my face when I thought about you. In that moment, when Quinn’s footsteps echoed in the distance behind me, a weight had been lifted. In that moment, I finally allowed myself to love you. I allowed the memories I had once deemed as pesky scars attack my mind and piece together my sanity. It was a beautiful feeling. I was happy, even if you weren’t around.

Do you know what loving you is like? It was enough, Gerard, to sustain me even if you couldn’t be there to experience it.

I walked down the block, a soft smile on my face, listening to the little noises that fluttered against my ears; the honk of a car, the New York accents from the immigrants over the bridge, the construction, the planes. Even the musty smell of New Jersey made me chuckle. Someone bumped into me, and for the first time I didn’t curse him out. For once I was happy. Happy for no reason.

It was sudden…it was unexpected. God it was you. It was you in your purest form.

I walked passed an old comic book store that caught my attention. I looked at the broken words etched into the dirty glass. It still stood, after seven years, that old comic book store still stood strong. The first place where my lips ever came in contact with yours. The first time my heart stopped; the first time our bodies connected. I had come full circle, hadn’t I? Standing in front of a dirty New Jersey comic book store, watching the preteen patrons look through the multitude of comics at their disposal. I smiled sadly at the old building…slowly feeling your essence leave me. I wrapped my arms around my small frame, as to savor the last bit of you.

That’s when familiar black clothing caught my eye. All the way in the back, dressed head to toe in black, I saw someone I hadn’t seen…in a very very long time. Dressed in black jeans, wearing your famed black denim jacket, your hair was short…choppy…messy. You were touching the worn out comics with appreciation and sadness; they were too old to be of any interest of the younger generation. Oh Gerard, did you feel like that? The hero of millions of people- young and old- did you feel as low as those comics coming off their seams. I opened the door, the bell ringing to announce my arrival…

I waked down the aisle slowly; looking back every few seconds as if waiting to see Jamia standing out there waving. Nothing, just dense New Jersey fog. I looked forward, I looked at you. Your body had finally stopped moving as you apathetically turned the pages of an old mystery comic that hadn’t seen life in god knows how long. I stopped a few feet from you…trying to remember the steps in this age old dance…

I kicked the back of your leg, hearing an amused grunt come from your side. You turned your head slightly, your green eye looking at me as if I was all you could see.

“What the flying fuck do you want, Iero?” I saw the half smirk dance along your perfect face. Suddenly I forgot the rest of the lines. Something about satisfaction and being gay. I couldn’t remember- but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to start all over. I wanted you to turn around and throw your arms around me. I wanted you to kiss me and hold me; tell me the world had finally come into place. Tell me it was okay to cry, okay to love, okay to fight…and bleed…and want.

I didn’t have to tell you. You immediately turned around; your green eyes were attached to my eyes…trying to find me under the tears that had seemed too welled up in my orbs.

“Frank,” you said sweetly, “Frank don’t cry…”

I shook my head, “Not fucking crying!”

“It’s okay…to let it go. To let all go…”

I closed my eyes, my body trembling either from the need to vomit up last nights alcohol, or from the surge of emotion that attacked me. It wasn’t a tingle this time. Your voice reached my ears and it was like the whole world came crashing down. But it was good. It was beautiful. It was destruction and blood…and it was you, Gerard. Your voice, your eyes, your body. It wasn’t Black Parade Gerard, it wasn’t Gerard After Eliza, it wasn’t even Revenge Gerard. It was just you!

I turned my head slightly, to look back outside…

I saw our life in rewind. I saw all the blood and the pain and the tears that were shed during these passed six years. Everything in backwards. Like a dance- going from slow to fast- I saw all the memories fly out the window. All the wounds healing. All the tears disappearing. I saw the glass from the car fly back in place. I saw the drinks we had ingested go back in their bottles…

I saw everything up to that point…when we met in the comic book store…

Now we pressed play…

We were almost dressed the same- our hair the same- as that memory seven years ago. We were older though- not that much wiser- but clean. We are clean.

You touched my waist and pulled me close to your inviting body. I smiled against your strong chest; shivering when I felt your calloused hand caress my face.

“Gerard,” your name sounded like drugs against my mouth, “Gerard…this time…lets avoid the car crash…”