The Pages All Look Torn and Frayed

When I’m on stage I’m a different person. I show people a strong willed girl who waves her middle finger around like a baton. I show the millions of people that I can stand up for myself. I stand up for things that I feel are right, and basically make sure that they know how I feel. I hold my guitar like a weapon and show them all whose boss. Weakness isn’t something I let seep through the subtle cracks. The only form of emotion I give them all is love. They all see my undying love for my Gerard, but even then I try not to let them see that if something ever came between us, I would be shattered. They all look up to me like I’m some sort of god, some supernatural being, who isn’t afraid of life at all.

But I’m terrified.

Those people have no idea about the broken shell of a girl they see on stage. I try to hold my position on and off stage. But how can I when life seems to spiral out of control. I always thought I could control what happened, that I could always make sure things were perfect. They don’t see the emotional abuse I endure continuously. Sometimes I wish I could stay on the stage forever. Being crippled inside makes me feel so low and pathetic deep inside. But seeing how the people cheer for me, and basically worship the ground I walk on, makes me feel like I was someone in this world. Life just feels like a joke, it’s all just some staged event and one day I’ll wake up and find out that nothing is the same.

All these years of watching Gerard on stage, then seeing him after the show shaped me into who I am. Hiding every thing from the world and only letting tattered sheets of paper see my real emotions. I shook of everything, just like Gerard did.

But things aren’t going away.

I’m still just suppressing it, almost breaking under the weight of it all. I’m basically helpless, fallen too deep in the pit to pull myself out of it. I’m starting to find myself on a road to death. I noticed it years ago with Gerard too, I warned him as well. But it honestly took rehab to show him what he had become.

But I know how to control my drinking.

I’m not addicted though.

I only use that cursed poison to curb my emotions for just a while. I used to be perfectly fine with sitting alone on my bus, while everyone else was on the party bus. But now I can’t go a day without having something in me. I’m always on that bus now with all the rest of my new drunken crew. And I always have a drink in hand.

I can look back at all I want as Gerard and scowl at his open stupidity. He drank constantly, so much that it got unbearable to be around him. His normally bright hazel eyes were glazed over in a drunken haze. His words became slurred and he could hardly carry a conversation. He stumbled everywhere he walked, falling into bushes and falling flat on his face.

He said he was happy.

The moment I walked in on him sprawled out on the cold linoleum floor with fresh tears stinging his eyes, and a half used line of cocaine on the floor, I knew it was all a lie.

All those smiles, all those laughs. It was all a mask to hide this cruel truth.

He looked up at me, wiping furiously at his sobbing eyes. His flushed face, slightly blotchy from the extensive weeping. There was white powder around his nose, instantly telling me of what he had been doing. He didn’t think I would ever know about his sins but I found it all out.

But I couldn’t help him.

I couldn’t save him.

I let myself be paralyzed in my own fear as I stood and watched him corrupt himself. I watched him break into a million little pieces in front of my face. Every ounce of my being was screaming and pleading just to hold him. To tell him that I still loved him, no matter what happened. But I just couldn’t bring myself to touch his fragile form. I couldn’t even cry for him. Sure, they stung my eyes until I could have sworn that they bled, but still nothing. I had to watch his very own friends personally check him into rehab. They left him there alone.

It never hit me until the moment I walked into our apartment and found it completely empty, that he wasn’t coming home. Not any time soon anyway. Life isn’t all its cracked up to be. I sat alone in our room, on our bed, just staring at the wall. I still remember the immense pain I felt deep inside of my heart.

I vowed that I would never hurt someone like his actions hurt me.

I sighed deeply as I took my last shot. I grimaced at the strong vile acid making its way down my throat and into the pits of my stomach. I slammed the glass against the mahogany bar before pushing myself up from the stool. I started my way across the room to head back to the venue. I’m not Gerard. My choices won’t become his mistakes.

I’m not an addict.