Keep the Faith

Knock knock knock.

"Gerard? Are you in there?"

Bang bang bang.

"Gerard?! What was that?!"

Nothing. It was nothing, tell him, nothing, we don't need him, we don't-

"Mikey!"

I choked out his name and winced as I felt it clog somewhere between my empty brain and my bitterly dry esophagus. I mustered up every inch of strength I had left and crawled to the door, unlocking it with my slippery fingers and falling back, only to be immediately scooped up in his arms.

"You have to stop doing this-"

"I can't, I can't-"

"You're not trying!"

I began sobbing clumsily into his shirt, my weak arms flailing around and searching for some source of comfort, but he was right, I wasn't trying. At least, I wasn't trying hard enough. Everytime it happened, even if it was just a narrow-eyed glance or an overheard whisper, I'd run here so fast I felt my legs might give way, and collapse on the dirty bathroom floor until my baby brother found me.

He lifted his hands to rest on my chin and brought my face up to meet his.

"What does it matter, Ger?" A single tear slid down his cheek and I reached my shaking hand up to wipe it.

"What does it matter if people you don't even know-"

"They do know me, they said they knew me once-"

"Then they know nothing," he said firmly, shaking his head and forbidding any more salty tears to fall from his broken eyes. I wanted desperately for the situation to change; it just didn't feel right. It used to be me looking out for Mikey, and me taking care of Mikey, but I had let myself become such a mess that our roles automatically reversed.

"Those who mind don't matter, those who matter don't mind," he quoted in a whisper.

And I will not lie to you- there was no spark of realization; there was so sudden understanding; there was just the heartbreakingly difficult answer to the question I'd never even asked.

Everything will be okay in the end.
If it's not okay, it's not the end.

"I just feel-"

"Don't, Ger-"

"But I do, I feel so-"

"Don't!"

He knew I didn't change. He knew I could never bring myself to fully accept the concept of change.

I don't remember much else apart from crying some more, and choking out the odd phrase about ugliness and being unhappy.

But as usual, Mikey made it better.

As he held me in his arms I felt every ounce of hatred for myself go away. His next words were simple; they were borrowed, but somehow not out of place. He spoke them in a voice so soft the syllables barely reached my needy ears, but I heard him. I heard my brother save me, and not for the first time.

"Shh. You're beautiful just the way you are."