Frerard Cancer

The white walls and the beeping reminded me of what was to come. I was surrounded by loved ones…all except one. I needed him to be here, more than anyone else in the world…I wanted my Frankie. I sighed as I looked at the huddled up figure of my crying mother. Why did everyone have to be so sad…it wasn’t like they were the ones going through this! My head throbbed; it was constantly doing this now, nothing new. I looked around the room, at all my family…all the people I cherished…why wasn’t he here? I was close to falling yet again into a dreamless sleep when my beloved Frank walked in the room. He walked in slowly and sat in the chair next to my bed. I turned away from him…I wanted him by me, but I couldn’t let him see me like this. I felt so…vulnerable. My hair had gone long ago; my pale skin hugged my skinny body, the large dark bags under my eyes and the feeling of utter sadness. I didn’t want to leave my Frankie…I didn’t want to leave this world. Frank’s hand grasped mine…we had to keep our relationship a secret. My parents would be horrified; they would abandon me…even on my deathbed. I took a sip of the water; it passed my chapped lips before it went down my coarse throat. I could feel myself circling the drain, I’d fought so hard for so long, but I just didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. I looked at Frank, from the expression on his face I could tell that he knew. I could see the tears well up in his eyes.
“Hush Frankie, my time has come…I just want you to know…the hardest part of this is leaving you,” I said, my voice cracked and faded.
I motioned for Frank to come closer, he obeyed. When he was close enough I pressed my lips on his, for our last kiss. I pulled away, lying back and letting the darkness overcome me.

Frank’s POV

I can’t believe it…he’s gone. I will never hold him again…my Gee had died. His family looked at me with shock…then I remembered. They had just found out that their son was gay. I hoped they wouldn’t go all homophobic on me…I wanted to mourn Gerard without being judged. Gerard’s father, Don, walked over to me. I was waiting for some yelling or something, but Don hugged me. He held me tightly before letting go.
“Thanks Frank,”
“Thank me for what?” I asked confused
“Making Gerard’s last months happy and filled with love,”

Years had passed and I still missed Gerard everyday. I visited his grave weekly and I always placed red roses by his grave…his favourite. I sat down, not caring if my pants got dirty. I sat by Gerard’s grave for hours, talking to him. I still feel him beside me wherever I go.