Anorex-a-Gogo
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I would tell you that Gerard and I talked things out. That we kissed and realized that we had the power to fix whatever had broken so quickly. I would tell you that.
But I'm just too damn tired to lie.
The truth is that Gerard continued to stay all hysterical for the next twenty minutes, while I tried not to break down as well so that I could calm him down. He eventually fell into this restless, exhausted sleep, clinging to me and muttering about right and wrong. I would have sold my soul just to know what he was dreaming about.
The truth is that I stayed up nearly all night because I was pretty damn sure that Karma was fucking with me. What did he mean by wishing our love was right now? What did that mean? By the time I passed out in early morning, I still didn't have any answers.
The truth is that I've never been more scared in my life.
I awake to gentle shaking. Almost not there at all, but it's persistent enough to be real. My eyes won't hardly even open, dragging down and fluttering like wings. Open, close, open, close. I settle for sort of in between, my lips slitted but I'm blind. Gerard's face slowly comes into focus, blurring in and out until it becomes clear. His eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot, crimson lines cracking the white surface like faults on a sidewalk. The hazel is dull, like the flames have burnt out. He's burnt out.
"Frankie, c'mon. Wake up. Just for a moment, I won't make you stay up for long," he murmurs, brushing my face with hands that just feel cold.
I open my eyes a little more, but they sort of fall closed again. Sunshine is just beginning to pour in through the window behind us, bathing him in a glow that makes him seem ethereal. "Okay," I groggily mumble, "I'm awake."
Then he simply looks at me for a few long seconds. "Frankie, first I want to apologize for last night. That was....so wrong of me, I should never of said that to you because it's not true. I'm actually pretty angry at myself for telling you that. I'm so, so sorry."
His words float through my ears. We aren't right, but he's saying that's not true because we are right, we are. I'm running on empty, less than two hours of sleep.
"I...I'm not really sure how to say this next part, so I'm just going to tell you, okay?"
He takes a deep breath. "You were right about a lot of things, Frankie. About me wanting to protect you and help you. You taught me what it means to put someone else's life before my own simply because I love them. And you taught me not to be afraid to fall for someone.
"You were right about me loving you. I do, very, very much. I think you taught me what love is. And what it isn't. How it isn't lies, and it isn't hurting people." He absentmindedly plays with a piece of my hair. "But I'm not sure that loving you is what's good for us. It just seems to hurt you. And you've been hurt enough without my help."
Gerard closes his eyes. "In so many ways you were always right. But..." Here he looks away, out my window where New Jersey isn't even awake yet. "But you were wrong about one thing. I don't want to corrupt you. Not anymore."
He inhales sharply, but I can't see his face through my sleep-bleary eyes. My mind is so sleepy that I can connect nothing with nothing. When he speaks again, his voice is clogged as if he has a cold. "I just don't want to hurt you anymore. I keep forgetting how damn innocent you are despite all of this that's happened to you. I don't think I can watch you cry anymore.
"Mostly I just want you to be okay. And I think I need to go away for you to be able to start that process. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to be happy again." His lips press to my cheek, and I feel the glittering tears that drip from his eyelashes to my skin. I taste their salt as they run past my open lips. "Just remember to smile, Frankie. God knows you're beautiful when you smile."
I hardly even take in his words. I'm thinking about how warm I am, waking up on Christmas morning in a bed that smells like Gerard. I'm thinking that I might be in the better part of Elsewhere now.
"Merry Christmas, Frankie. I fucking love you now just as much as I ever did. I love you more. But love can't save us. It was foolish to think it ever could. Love can't save us from anything. But a fresh start can," he whispers. His lips graze mine, but I'm in dreamland where we're already happy and kissing and in love.
But a kiss is never just a kiss. I should have felt that his was a goodbye kiss. I should have felt it, but I think I was just blocking it out.
I'm still grinning softly as I fall back into slumber, but he slips out of the room. It's not until I wake up four hours later to a bed that's devoid of Gerard that I remember his words and I realize that he's not even coming back.
But I'm just too damn tired to lie.
The truth is that Gerard continued to stay all hysterical for the next twenty minutes, while I tried not to break down as well so that I could calm him down. He eventually fell into this restless, exhausted sleep, clinging to me and muttering about right and wrong. I would have sold my soul just to know what he was dreaming about.
The truth is that I stayed up nearly all night because I was pretty damn sure that Karma was fucking with me. What did he mean by wishing our love was right now? What did that mean? By the time I passed out in early morning, I still didn't have any answers.
The truth is that I've never been more scared in my life.
I awake to gentle shaking. Almost not there at all, but it's persistent enough to be real. My eyes won't hardly even open, dragging down and fluttering like wings. Open, close, open, close. I settle for sort of in between, my lips slitted but I'm blind. Gerard's face slowly comes into focus, blurring in and out until it becomes clear. His eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot, crimson lines cracking the white surface like faults on a sidewalk. The hazel is dull, like the flames have burnt out. He's burnt out.
"Frankie, c'mon. Wake up. Just for a moment, I won't make you stay up for long," he murmurs, brushing my face with hands that just feel cold.
I open my eyes a little more, but they sort of fall closed again. Sunshine is just beginning to pour in through the window behind us, bathing him in a glow that makes him seem ethereal. "Okay," I groggily mumble, "I'm awake."
Then he simply looks at me for a few long seconds. "Frankie, first I want to apologize for last night. That was....so wrong of me, I should never of said that to you because it's not true. I'm actually pretty angry at myself for telling you that. I'm so, so sorry."
His words float through my ears. We aren't right, but he's saying that's not true because we are right, we are. I'm running on empty, less than two hours of sleep.
"I...I'm not really sure how to say this next part, so I'm just going to tell you, okay?"
He takes a deep breath. "You were right about a lot of things, Frankie. About me wanting to protect you and help you. You taught me what it means to put someone else's life before my own simply because I love them. And you taught me not to be afraid to fall for someone.
"You were right about me loving you. I do, very, very much. I think you taught me what love is. And what it isn't. How it isn't lies, and it isn't hurting people." He absentmindedly plays with a piece of my hair. "But I'm not sure that loving you is what's good for us. It just seems to hurt you. And you've been hurt enough without my help."
Gerard closes his eyes. "In so many ways you were always right. But..." Here he looks away, out my window where New Jersey isn't even awake yet. "But you were wrong about one thing. I don't want to corrupt you. Not anymore."
He inhales sharply, but I can't see his face through my sleep-bleary eyes. My mind is so sleepy that I can connect nothing with nothing. When he speaks again, his voice is clogged as if he has a cold. "I just don't want to hurt you anymore. I keep forgetting how damn innocent you are despite all of this that's happened to you. I don't think I can watch you cry anymore.
"Mostly I just want you to be okay. And I think I need to go away for you to be able to start that process. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to be happy again." His lips press to my cheek, and I feel the glittering tears that drip from his eyelashes to my skin. I taste their salt as they run past my open lips. "Just remember to smile, Frankie. God knows you're beautiful when you smile."
I hardly even take in his words. I'm thinking about how warm I am, waking up on Christmas morning in a bed that smells like Gerard. I'm thinking that I might be in the better part of Elsewhere now.
"Merry Christmas, Frankie. I fucking love you now just as much as I ever did. I love you more. But love can't save us. It was foolish to think it ever could. Love can't save us from anything. But a fresh start can," he whispers. His lips graze mine, but I'm in dreamland where we're already happy and kissing and in love.
But a kiss is never just a kiss. I should have felt that his was a goodbye kiss. I should have felt it, but I think I was just blocking it out.
I'm still grinning softly as I fall back into slumber, but he slips out of the room. It's not until I wake up four hours later to a bed that's devoid of Gerard that I remember his words and I realize that he's not even coming back.