Your Memory Will Carry On

Gerard,

It’s me, Frank. Well, obviously it is because I’m sure you can recognize my handwriting. I’m sitting here in the hospital, waiting for you to get back from Thailand (probably with the rest of the guys, I know you couldn’t leave without them in tow. I don’t really mind, they are my fellow band members and I love them a lot, too). This stupid fucking loud-ass sterile hospital is driving me up the wall. The nurses come in every two hours, even at two in the fucking morning, to take my temperature and a sample of my blood and change the medication in my IVs. I can’t get any sleep because of them, though they are generally nice. I miss you the most, though.

I miss on tour how our bunks were always right across from each other, and sometimes we’d have whispered conversations at three in the morning, trying not to wake everyone else up but being too lazy to actually get out of our comfortable beds. Okay, so they weren’t really that comfortable and not all that warm. I would’ve rather cuddled with you, you’re much warmer and much more comfortable but I didn’t want to push that on you too much.

I miss your stupid little giggle and the way you smile and how you talk out of the side of your mouth. I always found it really cute how you were really shy when we first met, how you barely talked to me because I was someone new that you weren’t used to yet. I was determined to change that, though. I could just feel in the air you were someone different from everyone else that I had met so far in my life, and I was right. I knew I had to be your best friend, no matter what it took. And I guess I succeeded. At least, I hope I succeeded. I always regarded us as best friends, even though Mikey was your best friend first.

You were really the one who made me figure out that I was gay. I mean, before I had dated girls because that was what you were supposed to do in high school as a guy. There wasn’t an option, no little survey or class that you took to help you figure out other paths for yourself. There was one and you stuck to it. Normally I didn’t like following all those stupid high school rules but this was one I gave into. I dated girls and they were nice and sweet, but I never felt a huge attraction to them or had any huge chemistry with them. I never thought I could be bisexual or even gay at the time. I just thought maybe I was stupid or something for not seeing females as attractive like my friends did. I didn’t really go out with anyone after high school. I mean, after you try to impress people there there’s really no point in college because everyone wants to be an outcast and cool, right?

I’m glad I didn’t date anyone in college, though, because that’s when I met you. And I don’t think I’d be able to explain to my girlfriend that I was attracted to a man that I just met.

Yes, I was attracted to you then...I’m surprised you haven’t said anything about it, I was terrified you’d find out I had a tiny crush on you. But you never mentioned anything so I just kinda went for the ‘best friend’ approach. It seemed to work. I was glad I was close to you. It made me happy.

I’d decided to tell you first that I was gay because, like I just said, you pretty much made me realize that fact back in college. I was nervous as hell. I mean, I knew you weren’t homophobic or anything but I wasn’t really sure how you’d react. Would things be different between us? Would you act all weird around me? Would you think I’d try to hit on you?

What you did after I told you was nothing that I’d expected, even in my extremely irrelevant fantasies about this situation. You just hugged me. You fucking hugged me and smiled and didn’t say anything, because there was nothing you really needed to say. You hugged me for such a long time I thought my back would break. But it was okay, because I loved hugging you. I don’t think you realize how much that hug really meant to me. If you had done anything less than that I don’t know if I would’ve had the guts to tell anyone else that I was gay. You really gave me the courage to tell the world about it. I don’t think I can thank you enough for that.

I saw you fall apart at the seams when your grandmother died. You rushed over to my house, tears streaming down your face and fell into my arms. I was terrified for you. I didn’t like to see you all broken and torn, I would’ve done anything to fix it if you’d let me. The only way I could see me fixing anything was just by holding you, and that’s what I did. I held you on the couch as you cried, and I petted you just like I liked to be petted and I whispered words of encouragement in your ear. It seemed to calm you down and I was glad of that fact.

And then…then you attempted to kill yourself. Well, you were talking about it. I had heard you on the phone talking to Brian. I knew you were drunk by the way your voice slurred – there wasn’t a night that passed by during that summer that you weren’t drunk off your ass. It hurt. It hurt to see you so depressed and suicidal and to know that my talks with you weren’t getting anything accomplished. Either you weren’t listening to me all those times before or you really didn’t care. But when you said you were going to kill yourself, I lost it. I freaked the fuck out. You couldn’t die, you couldn’t end your life like that. I wouldn’t let you. I would fucking kill myself before I’d let anything hurt you. You must’ve known that or maybe you were too drunk to figure it out. I was always the one who would stay by you when you were too inebriated to make it to your bunk. I laid with you until you fell asleep and I’d make coffee for you in the morning to help you fight off your hangover. I was there through all of the shit you pulled while you were drunk and I still loved you.

I stood near the entrance to the bunks while you hung up with Brian. I knew you weren’t really going to come off that cliff so easily. You were still going to fucking kill yourself and I wasn’t going to let you. We screamed and fought outside, I yelled so much I’m sure my face was red and my vocal chords were beyond sore. If heart-to-heart talks weren’t going to help you then maybe brute force and volume would.

Something clicked in your eyes that night. I don’t know what it was but I think you finally saw the error in your ways. You fell to the floor and started bawling your eyes out, and I, as always, was there to help you pick up the pieces. You were clinging to me like your life depended on it. Like when your grandmother died. I guess I never realized until just now, but it seems like you were as dependent on me as I was on you. I don’t think that was a coincidence.

I was so fucking happy when you got clean and sober after that. It was an uphill battle, I know, but I helped you. I know I did. You would always sit by me now in interviews and we’d be hanging out together a lot more than we used to, and that was saying a lot because we hung out together all the time. I didn’t mind. You were practically my world and I wouldn’t have things any other way.

I’ve never really had the guts to say this to you in person, Gee, but I love you. I love you so fucking much I don’t think you can understand. Ever since I first saw you I knew that we would make the perfect couple. We kind of are a couple right now, I guess. We sure as hell act a lot like it. I wouldn’t act this way with anyone else, though. It wouldn’t mean as much.

You are my fucking everything. Meeting you and knowing you makes everything in my existence before you seem…duller. Not as lively or as full. You made my life so much better by just being here. I love you more than my mom, more than my dad, more than anyone else on this entire fucking planet. My love for you is something so intense and real that I couldn’t imagine it being for anyone else. Just you. Just perfect Gerard Arthur Way with his silky soft hair and cute little smile and awkward movements because he’s still not used to being internationally recognized after so many years of being in a band.

I guess I’m saying this now because I know that I’m going to die soon. I had to write this letter to you because you were the first person I thought about when the doctors came in and told me about the possibly-cancerous tumor in my head. No wonder those headaches were so killer, huh?

I don’t mind dying right now, actually. I’ve lived the dream life I had always fantasized about when I was a kid. I’m a fucking rockstar and I traveled the world and I met a lot of people and I fell in love. I fell in a deep, passionate love and even though I’ve never really shared that with you I guess it’s okay, because I know I love you and that’s really all that matters.

If this tumor is cancerous and I don’t live to see the light of day after today, I won’t mind. Because I know that I’ll see your face soon enough and I couldn’t imagine a better way to end my life.

I’ll see you in heaven, Gerard. And it better not be anytime soon.

xoxofrank