Blinded

I’m lying on my back. If I could see, I bet I’d be able to see thousands and thousands of stars spread across the sky like a blanket of Christmas lights. But I can’t see it. I can only see the dark. So I guess it’s cloudy tonight.
I smile at my own joke.
I can smell the grass beneath me. I can taste the moist of the night air. I can feel the fresh air caressing my skin. I can hear crickets in the distance – playing their weird, violin-like legs. I remember that cartoon; the cricket that lived like a bum – sponging on other insects for food and shelter. He learned how to appreciate people’s helpfulness and not be selfish.
Am I being selfish? Am I not appreciating other’s helpfulness? Haven’t I shown thankfulness?
Am I really not in love? Am I simply just using Frank’s love?
I feel my chest widen at the thought of Frank. The thought of his hair heats up my skin. The thought of his eyes speeds up my heart rate. The thought of his tattoos makes my mouth water, and at the same time makes my stomach tie knots around itself.
I miss him. I miss his laugh, his looks, his voice, his thoughts, his jokes, his attention.
I can still see him in my head – his slim, yet curvy, body and his eyes. Those eyes contain so many different expressions that I’ve never bothered to even start counting.
But still, something is missing. I’m forgetting something. I’ve forgotten some little detail about him, and I just can’t remember it. It’s just that when I see him before my inner eye, something just doesn’t seem right.
I know what it is, though – I know what I’m forgetting: His face. I can see his eyes, but I can’t see his face. It’s like when I see him before me, I can’t get a close-up. I can see the rough outline of his face – like the puffy skin underneath the sides of his lower lip or the shape of his eyebrows – but I can’t see his details. I’ve drawn them a million times, but I can’t see them.
But do they really matter? Do they matter more than his laugh and his voice and personality and…him?
No.
He’s always supported me – just by being there next to me. Whenever he was there, I was never depressed. Even when it was time to take my pills back in the day, I would always forget them if he was around.
Was that when it started?
Oh, stop it! Just- Stop it! It doesn’t fucking matter when! It doesn’t matter why or how either!
I’m in love! I love him and that’s all that matters!
That’s all that matters.
I love him.
I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him!
I love Frank Iero!
I smile wide and goofy.
I love him.
I laugh at myself – loudly.
Sometimes you need to be blind to see.