Frank's Last Words
"Its Not Going To Work"
It was one year ago exactly.
One year ago today, the day Frank dumped me.
I couldn’t believe it. He never did give me a proper explanation, all he said, all he said was “it’s not going to work.” Those were Frank’s last words to me and I’d heard them often enough, over and over, all those nights thinking about him, tossing and turning, trying to sleep and wondering about why he’d done it, why he’d dumped me when I thought…I thought I’d found the one.
We’d only been going out for two months when he’d muttered those words and I couldn’t understand it, everything had been going so well, may be too well if there was such a thing but it was. It was perfect. Being with this guy was just perfect, this guy who in a million years I never imagined being with, someone like him, a tattooed guitarist in a band…
…I didn’t have that many friends but I wasn’t too worried about it. My parents were wealthy but not posh, they’d made their own money, my mother being a well-known author. Yes, she was the well-known horror writer, C S Wilson. Caroline Sandra Wilson to be precise but was barely recognisable in real life. My father, well he was a successful businessman and had made his money easily but he worked hard at it and I hardly ever remember him being home.
They were good parents, supportive of my dream of becoming a dancer. Stupid dreams really but they’d always stuck by me, all the way through school.
My two best friends travelled to school with me on the bus and that’s how I met them first, on my first day going to school, on the bus. Jake was fantastic, he made me laugh so much and Carly, she was just so friendly and we bounced off each other but we were all different. Carly hated the fact that I didn’t know half the bands she always spoke of. Jake knew them and they often went to gigs together but I never really wanted to go with them, much preferring to go to the movies even if I sat there on my own.
But this one particular night, Carly insisted that I go with them to see some band called Pencey Prep. What sort of names that? I kept saying to her, winding her up because I’d already decided that may be it was about time I went along to see what all the fuss was about as she’d been on about them for weeks.
“My brother’s friend Frank plays for them but he’s leaving after this gig to join My Chemical Romance,” she kept saying, “now you must have heard of them?” Of course I hadn’t, who the fuck was she talking about? I didn’t have a clue but hopefully after this evening I’d know.
So she took me along to this place, it was a dive, filled with sweaty bodies crammed tightly close together and we listened to this band called Pencey Prep but I was mesmerized by the guy playing guitar, the type of guy that I couldn’t imagine ever falling for but it seemed there was something about him that had gotten under my skin, he’d struck me somehow, this little guy with all the energy and hoped that this was the guy that Carly knew, suddenly feeling the urge just to talk to him.
My luck was in that night because it was him. She did know him.
His name was Frank Iero and just watching him had given me butterflies, just watching him had caused me to get clammy palms.
I think he’d stolen my heart away that first night, this gorgeous tattooed guy.
Well he did take my heart, for two whole months until Frank’s last words “its not going to work,” were like a slap in the face to me.
And now, one year on, lying in my bath full of bubbles I found myself once again thinking about him and wondering if I’d ever get to meet him again and get a proper explanation as to why he’d dumped me.
I had to know because two days prior to that he’d told me he loved me.
One year ago today, the day Frank dumped me.
I couldn’t believe it. He never did give me a proper explanation, all he said, all he said was “it’s not going to work.” Those were Frank’s last words to me and I’d heard them often enough, over and over, all those nights thinking about him, tossing and turning, trying to sleep and wondering about why he’d done it, why he’d dumped me when I thought…I thought I’d found the one.
We’d only been going out for two months when he’d muttered those words and I couldn’t understand it, everything had been going so well, may be too well if there was such a thing but it was. It was perfect. Being with this guy was just perfect, this guy who in a million years I never imagined being with, someone like him, a tattooed guitarist in a band…
…I didn’t have that many friends but I wasn’t too worried about it. My parents were wealthy but not posh, they’d made their own money, my mother being a well-known author. Yes, she was the well-known horror writer, C S Wilson. Caroline Sandra Wilson to be precise but was barely recognisable in real life. My father, well he was a successful businessman and had made his money easily but he worked hard at it and I hardly ever remember him being home.
They were good parents, supportive of my dream of becoming a dancer. Stupid dreams really but they’d always stuck by me, all the way through school.
My two best friends travelled to school with me on the bus and that’s how I met them first, on my first day going to school, on the bus. Jake was fantastic, he made me laugh so much and Carly, she was just so friendly and we bounced off each other but we were all different. Carly hated the fact that I didn’t know half the bands she always spoke of. Jake knew them and they often went to gigs together but I never really wanted to go with them, much preferring to go to the movies even if I sat there on my own.
But this one particular night, Carly insisted that I go with them to see some band called Pencey Prep. What sort of names that? I kept saying to her, winding her up because I’d already decided that may be it was about time I went along to see what all the fuss was about as she’d been on about them for weeks.
“My brother’s friend Frank plays for them but he’s leaving after this gig to join My Chemical Romance,” she kept saying, “now you must have heard of them?” Of course I hadn’t, who the fuck was she talking about? I didn’t have a clue but hopefully after this evening I’d know.
So she took me along to this place, it was a dive, filled with sweaty bodies crammed tightly close together and we listened to this band called Pencey Prep but I was mesmerized by the guy playing guitar, the type of guy that I couldn’t imagine ever falling for but it seemed there was something about him that had gotten under my skin, he’d struck me somehow, this little guy with all the energy and hoped that this was the guy that Carly knew, suddenly feeling the urge just to talk to him.
My luck was in that night because it was him. She did know him.
His name was Frank Iero and just watching him had given me butterflies, just watching him had caused me to get clammy palms.
I think he’d stolen my heart away that first night, this gorgeous tattooed guy.
Well he did take my heart, for two whole months until Frank’s last words “its not going to work,” were like a slap in the face to me.
And now, one year on, lying in my bath full of bubbles I found myself once again thinking about him and wondering if I’d ever get to meet him again and get a proper explanation as to why he’d dumped me.
I had to know because two days prior to that he’d told me he loved me.