So This Is Love

Frank Iero's Point of View

“Frank, I don’t care what you say, you are getting married to Rachel, goddamn it,” my mom said angrily.

“But I don’t want to,” I defended.

Gerard sat there, staring at us argue. I was surprised that my mom even let him stay while we argued. Gerard pretty much kept his eyes on me the entire time. He had this dazed look in his eyes. He looked like he was in deep thought and his eyes were just resting on me or in my direction.

“Frank, I don’t see why you're getting so hyped up about this,” she sighed, sipping her drink.

“Mom, I'm gay,” I blurted out. That was a lie … I think. I don’t know what the fuck I am—who I am. I'm leaning towards gay or bisexual though. I don’t feel like I'm straight, not one bit.

She nearly passed out, I swear. She inhaled quickly and let out a weird scream.

“You’re gay?” she asked, completely shocked.

“No,” I said.

“Actually, I don’t know. I'm not sure, but I'm not completely straight,” I rambled. I didn’t want her to think that I was just as straight as can be. “Would you still love me if I wanted to have sex with—“

Gerard recovered quickly from his trance and covered my mouth, smiling awkwardly at my mom.

“I'm going to talk to him for just a moment or two,” Gerard said before pulling me outside on the back porch.

“Don’t say shit like that!” he yelled, slapping me across the face. I put my hand up to my face, covering my stinging cheek.

“Ouch. You bastard, that fucking hurt!” I yelled, slapping him back. He mimicked me by grabbing his cheek.

“Did I hit you that hard?” he asked. I nodded at him, scowling. “Damn, I'm sorry.”

He hugged me quickly, and I hugged back. This was beyond weird and awkward.

“Go back in there and actually have a conversation with your mother, please. I'm going to have a smoke,” he said.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Only when I'm this fucking stressed out,” he said, glowering at me.

I gave him a small, weak smile and ran back inside.

“Mom, I … I want to talk things over with you, okay? I know that you think it’s best for me and the family and the money, but I don’t want to get married to Rachel. She's really nice and everything, but mom—please, realize that I'm old enough to make my own decisions. You were never forced to marry dad, so you have no clue what kind of pressures you're putting on me,” I said in a calm tone.

“Frank, maybe I don’t understand what you're going through, but you are still getting married and that’s final. You have to realize that there are horrible people in this world; I'm doing you good by keeping you away from all of the sex, drugs, and violence that other possible spouses might have to offer. Now, I want you to grow out of this little phase that you're going through and grow up. I thought that your father and I raised you better than acting like a child during the most serious situations, did we not?”

I didn’t say anything; if I would’ve said something, my mom would probably end up trying to strangle me for speaking my thoughts.

“Answer me this though, what in the world made you question your sexuality?” my mom asked, looking at me curiously. I could tell she was angry that I even thought about being with another guy, but a lot of people do it. I'm not that naïve.

“Mom, I'm questioning my sexuality because I find an attraction to men,” I said, glancing out the giant glass door. Gerard was pacing back and forth, smoking his cigarette. I couldn’t help but stare for a few more seconds. I wonder if he felt anything for me, because I was getting weak feelings for him.

I noticed my mom look at me and then turn to face the glass door as well. I knew she was looking at Gerard when she turned around with a slightly disgusted face.

“You are attracted to that man?” she asked me, clearly appalled.

“N-No, of course not,” I stammered, breaking my stare.

“He is completely the opposite of the type of person you should even be interested in,” she continued. Why did she always have to ramble?”For god sakes, he smokes! I don’t want you to die of lung cancer because of a horrible addiction. I want you to live a happy and healthy life and I—“

“Mother! For love of fucking god, would you please listen to what I am saying?” I yelled. “If you want me to live such a happy fucking life, then don’t make me marry this girl! Marrying her will not make me happy. I might commit suicide for all you know. Now please, for the first time in your life, respect someone else’s opinion other than your own.”

“Frank, I don’t know what to say,” she breathed, laughing in an exhausted and sarcastic way. “For now, however, get out of this house. I don’t want to see you right now. I think you just need a little more time to adjust to the situation.”

I burst out laughing at her. I swear she lives her life being as blind as can be. She doesn’t know when she's being a complete bitch to not.

“Adjust? Mother, I will never adjust. And you know what, since you clearly don’t care about me—only your money—I’ll leave. I’ll get out of your fucking sight. In fact, forget that I'm even alive,” I said.

“Frank, you're overreacting,” she said. “I promise you that I'm doing what's best for you. And I don’t just care about the money; I do care about you.”

I didn’t say anything else; there was no point in arguing with her over this, since she's clearly not going to change her mind. I went to the patio and told Gerard that I was ready to leave. He thanked my mom just for the sake of being kind, and we left.

“What happened?” Gerard asked me. “I heard you both screaming at each other for a while.”

“She doesn’t get me. It seems like I'm alone during this. Why couldn’t my parents have been normal and not so money hungry?” I asked, not to Gerard in particular. I put my face against the cool glass of the window and sighed.

“I don’t want to kick you when you're down, but please get your face off the glass; you'll get it dirty,” Gerard said. I sat up and looked at him. He stopped at a stop sign and looked at me, smiling in the slightest. I smiled back and put my head right back to where it was.