Status: Updating while working on rewriting the earlier chapters (and deleting some stuff).
Infinite
Thirty-one
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. Mom always hated cooking the traditional Christmas dinner, so we usually ended up getting pizza and eating in front of the TV, which actually became kind of a tradition. I never knew my grandparents, but when mom was going out with a guy called Owen, we spent Christmas at his parents’ house. I never liked Owen that much, but his parents loved me since I was the closest they had to a grandchild. That Christmas was great. But I can’t really say any of my Christmases have been that bad, it was just that after mom met Rick, I tended to spend my Christmases at Red’s house. It was just easier that way.
Frank’s letter makes me realize that I really don’t have anyone to spend this Christmas with. I’ve thought about it before, but always thought that it would sort itself out. But my bandmates are all spending it with girlfriends and family, and while I’m probably welcome to join them, it’s tempting to just curl up on the couch with a movie and pizza. I don’t want to be the third, mopey wheel to their holiday celebration.
To: Frank Iero
From: Aubrey Walker
Date: 2007/16/12
Subject: RE:RE: none
Yeah, it would be great to see you :) I’m spending Christmas at home actually, not sure what I’ll do yet though since it’s just me. Maybe I’ll watch Die Hard 2 and have a Christmas pizza, I’ve heard the pizza shop down the road makes the best :)
Hugs,
Aubrey
I grimace as I press send. Didn’t that sound just a little bit desperate? I can manage spending Christmas by myself, I don’t have to go whining about it to Frank. Is it just me, or does the use of two smileys in one letter make it totally transparent that I’m actually not okay at all?
I’m not okay, I promise.
I read his last letter again. We all miss you.
I try not to think of Gerard as I put on my docs, preparing for a walk outside. It’s a beautiful winter’s day and I’ve spent too much time inside lately.
When I think about it, my life has turned out like something from a dream. Two years ago I was certain my life would turn out to look something like my mother’s, but without giving birth at the age of sixteen. There was nothing special about me; I was just like every other emo girl in high school. And then I met Gerard.
Being with Gerard changed me. Without him, I never would have dared to believe that someone could like me the way I was. And without him, I wouldn’t be the self-conscious wreck I’ve been reduced to now.
The fans looking up to me? All they see is the façade. I'm a lousy role model.
A light snowfall covers the sidewalk as I walk towards Central Park, my iPod shutting out most of the noise from the busy city street. I deleted all my MCR songs from the device five months ago, but for once I feel like listening to some hopelessly reminding song. I need to cry and let the world crash down, even if it’s just for a few minutes before I have to get back to the living again.
I probably look like I’ve been struck by lightning when a woman suddenly emerges from the bookstore on my right, saying my name. Something clicks when I see her, like she’s an old relative or someone else I should be able to remember the face of. I take out one of the earbuds from my ear as I stare at her while frantically trying to figure out who she is.
“It is Aubrey, right?” she says, sounding uncertain as I haven’t said anything.
“Oh, that’s me, yeah,” I say, probably sounding pretty confused. It can’t really be a fan, she’s too old, but I know that face. She doesn’t smile at me, but she doesn’t look totally unfriendly either.
“Do you remember me?” she says, and I think about lying for a second before my memory decides to cooperate.
I would have preferred that it had stayed silent, since the person in front of me is Gerard’s mother.
Frank’s letter makes me realize that I really don’t have anyone to spend this Christmas with. I’ve thought about it before, but always thought that it would sort itself out. But my bandmates are all spending it with girlfriends and family, and while I’m probably welcome to join them, it’s tempting to just curl up on the couch with a movie and pizza. I don’t want to be the third, mopey wheel to their holiday celebration.
To: Frank Iero
From: Aubrey Walker
Date: 2007/16/12
Subject: RE:RE: none
Yeah, it would be great to see you :) I’m spending Christmas at home actually, not sure what I’ll do yet though since it’s just me. Maybe I’ll watch Die Hard 2 and have a Christmas pizza, I’ve heard the pizza shop down the road makes the best :)
Hugs,
Aubrey
I grimace as I press send. Didn’t that sound just a little bit desperate? I can manage spending Christmas by myself, I don’t have to go whining about it to Frank. Is it just me, or does the use of two smileys in one letter make it totally transparent that I’m actually not okay at all?
I’m not okay, I promise.
I read his last letter again. We all miss you.
I try not to think of Gerard as I put on my docs, preparing for a walk outside. It’s a beautiful winter’s day and I’ve spent too much time inside lately.
When I think about it, my life has turned out like something from a dream. Two years ago I was certain my life would turn out to look something like my mother’s, but without giving birth at the age of sixteen. There was nothing special about me; I was just like every other emo girl in high school. And then I met Gerard.
Being with Gerard changed me. Without him, I never would have dared to believe that someone could like me the way I was. And without him, I wouldn’t be the self-conscious wreck I’ve been reduced to now.
The fans looking up to me? All they see is the façade. I'm a lousy role model.
A light snowfall covers the sidewalk as I walk towards Central Park, my iPod shutting out most of the noise from the busy city street. I deleted all my MCR songs from the device five months ago, but for once I feel like listening to some hopelessly reminding song. I need to cry and let the world crash down, even if it’s just for a few minutes before I have to get back to the living again.
I probably look like I’ve been struck by lightning when a woman suddenly emerges from the bookstore on my right, saying my name. Something clicks when I see her, like she’s an old relative or someone else I should be able to remember the face of. I take out one of the earbuds from my ear as I stare at her while frantically trying to figure out who she is.
“It is Aubrey, right?” she says, sounding uncertain as I haven’t said anything.
“Oh, that’s me, yeah,” I say, probably sounding pretty confused. It can’t really be a fan, she’s too old, but I know that face. She doesn’t smile at me, but she doesn’t look totally unfriendly either.
“Do you remember me?” she says, and I think about lying for a second before my memory decides to cooperate.
I would have preferred that it had stayed silent, since the person in front of me is Gerard’s mother.