I Was Ripped Apart But Held By Glue
I Was Ripped Apart But Held By Glue [5/10]
FIVE
I sit down on one of the two beds with my back against the headboard. Brendon immediately follows me and sits down in front of me.
“No, Bren,” I say, not even giving him the chance to say something. I know what he will say anyway.
“Ryan, listen to me,” he starts, shifting forward and straddling my legs. Then he leans forward a bit and takes my chin between his thumb and index finger. “You are ill. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Everyone gets ill from time to time. I know it must be hard to step up and say you’ve got problems and then also ask help for it, but you really need to do it. It’s the only way you will get better.”
Those are words I don’t want to hear coming from him, because they’re true and him saying them almost forces me to take his advice. I don’t want to talk to anyone but him. He’s the only person I trust enough to tell everything about me. Yeah, I do trust Jon and Spencer, but not in the same way as I trust Brendon. I slowly shake my head, tears standing in my eyes.
“Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to,” I whisper, sounding like a little child who refuses to go to bed. “I just can’t,” I tell him, several tears flowing down my cheeks. He moves his hand from my chin and cups my cheek with it. His touch is soft and calming and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re the only person I want to talk to,” I tell him, opening my eyes again. I look at him, my vision blurred because of my tears. Brendon nods and caresses my tearstained cheek.
“I know, Ryan. But I can’t help you on my own. I’m not a psychiatrist,” he states. I wipe the tears from my eyes, so I can look at him properly. His big, brown eyes are sad and tears are standing in them, ready to fall any second now. “Please do this Ryan,” he says with a crooked voice. One tear escapes from the corner of his eye and rolls down his cheek. This is why I didn’t want him to get involved with me at first, because I’m taking him down with me. Brendon is ought to be cheerful, not crying like he is now. “I can go with you, if it helps. I’m sure we can find someone who allows me to be with you while you talk,” he tells me, still caressing my cheek with his index finger. I still don’t want to do this, but I feel I have to, just to take the horrible weight off his shoulders that I gave him earlier. I’ll do this so I won’t turn him into a wreck like I am.
“Okay,” I mutter and sniff away a few tears. “I’ll do it, but only if you stay with me the entire time. You don’t leave me for one single second,” I tell him, tightly grabbing his free hand with mine. He nods in response and manages a small smile for me.
“I promise,” he whispers, leaning a bit closer so out noses are touching. “You’re making the right decision,” he says, his warm breath tickling my lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I reply with a shaky voice and then I completely break down into a sobbing mess.
***
I wake up in the middle of the night, Brendon’s arms still tightly wrapped around my body. I try not to wake him as I slowly get out of the bed, to go to the bathroom, but I can’t because as soon as I’m sitting up, Brendon opens his eyes.
“Can’t you sleep?” he asks, switching on a small light that is standing on the nightstand.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell him. “To use the toilet,” I quickly add because I don’t want him to think I’m going to hurt myself again. I promised him I won’t and I’m going to do my best to keep that promise.
“Oh, ok,” he replies and his words are quickly followed by a long yawn. I quickly glance at the TV-clock. Half past four in the morning. I get out of the bed and stroll into the bathroom, not closing the door behind me, but leaving it ajar as if to prove that I really am using the toilet instead of doing something else.
When I get back, Brendon is sitting upright in the bed, his legs pulled up and his arms wrapped around them. I sit down next to him in silence and rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t feel like sleeping now. I want to be here with Brendon just enjoy the feeling of his body next to mine along with the warmth it radiates. He takes my hand in his and after a few minutes of complete silence where only our breaths can be heard, he softly starts singing.
“I can't imagine all the people that you know,
and the places that you go
when the lights are turned down low.
And I don't understand
all the things you've seen,
but I'm slipping in between
you and your big... dreams.
It's always you and my big dreams.”
I close my eyes and inhale a long breath, letting his beautiful voice soothe me. It’s as if by singing to me, he takes me to a completely different world. One where everything is okay and I can be happy. In my head, I can hear the piano of the song playing as well and I drift off in a slight slumber, but I don’t entirely fall asleep, because I can still hear Brendon’s voice singing the song.
“And you don't want to be here in the future.
So you say the present’s just a pleasant
interruption to the past.
And you don't want to look much closer
'cause you're afraid to find out all the hope
you had sent into the sky by now had... crashed.
And it did because of me.”
I want to stay awake until he finished the entire song. The entire nine minutes and a half. It’s one of my favourite songs and Brendon knows it.
“We don't have much room.
I said, does anybody need that room?
Because we all need a little more room to live.
…My Konstantine.”
Only when he has finished this last verse of the song, I allow myself to fall asleep, my head not moving one inch and our fingers still entwined.
***
“Brendon?” I ask as he comes walking through the bathroom door. He left the door opened the entire time so I wouldn’t freak out like I did yesterday morning. “How are we going to… like… you know… the thing?” I ask, making no sense at all, but I refuse to say the word therapy out loud. “With the touring and all. It’s still two weeks until we get two months off,” I add, looking at him and hoping he understands what I’m saying. Brendon starts biting his lower lip and sits down on the edge of the bed that we shared last night.
“I think it can wait until after the tour,” Brendon says after a short silence. I let out a sigh of relief. Two weeks postponement. Maybe by the end of the tour, Brendon will no longer think I should get help from a shrink. I hope so, because I’m still not fond of the idea. “But you got to promise me not to cut again, no matter what happens.”
I nod and hope that I won’t disappoint him again. I already promised him this before and then it went all wrong. I just can’t trust myself.
“If you promise me not to give me the chance to do it,” I tell him and then I lay my head down in his lap. I bury my nose into his stomach, hugging him close. I feel one of his hands settling in my hair and gently stroking it.
“I won’t, I promise,” he whispers and bends down, kissing the back of my head. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again,” he adds and I turn my head around, so I’m looking up at him.
“Why?” I ask, keeping my gaze fixated on his face. “Why do you love me?” I wonder out loud. It’s a question that has been bugging me since he told me that he loved me. I really don’t understand why he does and I just have to know. Brendon looks at me as if I just killed his favourite pet.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he questions and sighs deeply, shaking his head. “I love you because you’re Ryan Ross. You’re sweet, caring, funny, a very talented musician, cute, beautiful, passionate, smart and so much more,” he says, smiling at me and still stroking my hair. “Why can’t you see that?”
Because it’s all a lie, I think, but decide not to say it out loud because I don’t want to ruin the moment by crushing his nice words.
“Thanks,” I mutter in response, giving him a little smile.
“I’m just telling the truth,” he says and bends down again, so his face is hovering only a few inches above mine. “You’re a very lovable, extraordinary man and I love that,” he tells me, right before our lips touch in a sensual kiss.
The kiss is disturbed, though, by a knock on the door. Brendon pulls back and sighs loudly. That must be Spencer and Jon wondering where we are because we need to leave for the next town. Too bad because that means that I can’t be as close to Brendon as I want because we’ll all be sitting in the same bus. Unless we tell them.
“Brendon?” I ask, ignoring the knock on the door. “Do you think we should tell Spencer and Jon about… you know… us?” I ask. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing if they know. Brendon and I will be able to be affectionate with each other even when they are around. I don’t think I can still live without Brendon holding me; I’m already addicted to him and his protective arms.
“If you want to,” he answers, his lips curling into a soft smile. “But maybe it’s better if we do, so we don’t have to sneak behind their backs. They’re our friends after all and they deserve to know what’s going on,” he says, looking down at me. There’s another knock at the door, louder this time.
“Yeah, but, don’t tell them about… the things I did, please,” I plead, sitting upright. “I don’t want them to know, yet. Maybe later,” I add and stand up. Brendon nods in response and stands up as well.
“Of course,” he answers and grabs my non-injured hand in his. I make sure to pull my sleeve over my other hand, covering up the bandage that’s around it. I need to put on my gloves when we get on the bus.
With our hands still entwined, we walk over to the door and open it, facing Jon and Spencer.
“Finally, what took you guys so long?” Jon asks, entering the room.
“Yeah, we need to leave soon, or we’ll be late at tonight’s venue,” Spencer butts in, standing next to Jon and leaning on his shoulder. Then his eyes fall on our linked hands and a little smirk appears on his face. “Why are you guys holding hands?” he questions, looking back up at our faces. “You’re not… are you? Jon, I think you owe me twenty bucks.” He grins, poking Jon in the side.
“Woah, wait, they didn’t answer your question yet,” Jon states, giving me and Brendon an expectant look. “Well, are you?”
Brendon nods, drops my hand and lays his arm around my waist instead to prove his point.
“We are, now shut your holes and let’s leave,” he says and I can’t help but smile at this. That’s exactly what I want. I’d hate it if Jon and Spencer would make a huge fuss over this.
“Yeah, let’s,” I reply, a small smile still playing on my lips. It felt quite good to tell them this. Although I didn’t do much of the telling, but you get what I mean. Spencer and Jon nod, respecting Brendon’s words and dropping the subject.
“Do you have the key card?” I ask before Brendon closes the door behind us.
“Yeah,” he answers and closes the door, still holding my hand. Jon and Spencer are already halfway the hall and I see Jon handing a twenty dollar bill to Spencer. My friends are such idiots. But I love them and I’m glad that they didn’t start bugging us after mine and Brendon’s little announcement. I hope it will stay like this because there’s still a long day ahead of us.
I sit down on one of the two beds with my back against the headboard. Brendon immediately follows me and sits down in front of me.
“No, Bren,” I say, not even giving him the chance to say something. I know what he will say anyway.
“Ryan, listen to me,” he starts, shifting forward and straddling my legs. Then he leans forward a bit and takes my chin between his thumb and index finger. “You are ill. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Everyone gets ill from time to time. I know it must be hard to step up and say you’ve got problems and then also ask help for it, but you really need to do it. It’s the only way you will get better.”
Those are words I don’t want to hear coming from him, because they’re true and him saying them almost forces me to take his advice. I don’t want to talk to anyone but him. He’s the only person I trust enough to tell everything about me. Yeah, I do trust Jon and Spencer, but not in the same way as I trust Brendon. I slowly shake my head, tears standing in my eyes.
“Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to,” I whisper, sounding like a little child who refuses to go to bed. “I just can’t,” I tell him, several tears flowing down my cheeks. He moves his hand from my chin and cups my cheek with it. His touch is soft and calming and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re the only person I want to talk to,” I tell him, opening my eyes again. I look at him, my vision blurred because of my tears. Brendon nods and caresses my tearstained cheek.
“I know, Ryan. But I can’t help you on my own. I’m not a psychiatrist,” he states. I wipe the tears from my eyes, so I can look at him properly. His big, brown eyes are sad and tears are standing in them, ready to fall any second now. “Please do this Ryan,” he says with a crooked voice. One tear escapes from the corner of his eye and rolls down his cheek. This is why I didn’t want him to get involved with me at first, because I’m taking him down with me. Brendon is ought to be cheerful, not crying like he is now. “I can go with you, if it helps. I’m sure we can find someone who allows me to be with you while you talk,” he tells me, still caressing my cheek with his index finger. I still don’t want to do this, but I feel I have to, just to take the horrible weight off his shoulders that I gave him earlier. I’ll do this so I won’t turn him into a wreck like I am.
“Okay,” I mutter and sniff away a few tears. “I’ll do it, but only if you stay with me the entire time. You don’t leave me for one single second,” I tell him, tightly grabbing his free hand with mine. He nods in response and manages a small smile for me.
“I promise,” he whispers, leaning a bit closer so out noses are touching. “You’re making the right decision,” he says, his warm breath tickling my lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I reply with a shaky voice and then I completely break down into a sobbing mess.
***
I wake up in the middle of the night, Brendon’s arms still tightly wrapped around my body. I try not to wake him as I slowly get out of the bed, to go to the bathroom, but I can’t because as soon as I’m sitting up, Brendon opens his eyes.
“Can’t you sleep?” he asks, switching on a small light that is standing on the nightstand.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell him. “To use the toilet,” I quickly add because I don’t want him to think I’m going to hurt myself again. I promised him I won’t and I’m going to do my best to keep that promise.
“Oh, ok,” he replies and his words are quickly followed by a long yawn. I quickly glance at the TV-clock. Half past four in the morning. I get out of the bed and stroll into the bathroom, not closing the door behind me, but leaving it ajar as if to prove that I really am using the toilet instead of doing something else.
When I get back, Brendon is sitting upright in the bed, his legs pulled up and his arms wrapped around them. I sit down next to him in silence and rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t feel like sleeping now. I want to be here with Brendon just enjoy the feeling of his body next to mine along with the warmth it radiates. He takes my hand in his and after a few minutes of complete silence where only our breaths can be heard, he softly starts singing.
“I can't imagine all the people that you know,
and the places that you go
when the lights are turned down low.
And I don't understand
all the things you've seen,
but I'm slipping in between
you and your big... dreams.
It's always you and my big dreams.”
I close my eyes and inhale a long breath, letting his beautiful voice soothe me. It’s as if by singing to me, he takes me to a completely different world. One where everything is okay and I can be happy. In my head, I can hear the piano of the song playing as well and I drift off in a slight slumber, but I don’t entirely fall asleep, because I can still hear Brendon’s voice singing the song.
“And you don't want to be here in the future.
So you say the present’s just a pleasant
interruption to the past.
And you don't want to look much closer
'cause you're afraid to find out all the hope
you had sent into the sky by now had... crashed.
And it did because of me.”
I want to stay awake until he finished the entire song. The entire nine minutes and a half. It’s one of my favourite songs and Brendon knows it.
“We don't have much room.
I said, does anybody need that room?
Because we all need a little more room to live.
…My Konstantine.”
Only when he has finished this last verse of the song, I allow myself to fall asleep, my head not moving one inch and our fingers still entwined.
***
“Brendon?” I ask as he comes walking through the bathroom door. He left the door opened the entire time so I wouldn’t freak out like I did yesterday morning. “How are we going to… like… you know… the thing?” I ask, making no sense at all, but I refuse to say the word therapy out loud. “With the touring and all. It’s still two weeks until we get two months off,” I add, looking at him and hoping he understands what I’m saying. Brendon starts biting his lower lip and sits down on the edge of the bed that we shared last night.
“I think it can wait until after the tour,” Brendon says after a short silence. I let out a sigh of relief. Two weeks postponement. Maybe by the end of the tour, Brendon will no longer think I should get help from a shrink. I hope so, because I’m still not fond of the idea. “But you got to promise me not to cut again, no matter what happens.”
I nod and hope that I won’t disappoint him again. I already promised him this before and then it went all wrong. I just can’t trust myself.
“If you promise me not to give me the chance to do it,” I tell him and then I lay my head down in his lap. I bury my nose into his stomach, hugging him close. I feel one of his hands settling in my hair and gently stroking it.
“I won’t, I promise,” he whispers and bends down, kissing the back of my head. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again,” he adds and I turn my head around, so I’m looking up at him.
“Why?” I ask, keeping my gaze fixated on his face. “Why do you love me?” I wonder out loud. It’s a question that has been bugging me since he told me that he loved me. I really don’t understand why he does and I just have to know. Brendon looks at me as if I just killed his favourite pet.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he questions and sighs deeply, shaking his head. “I love you because you’re Ryan Ross. You’re sweet, caring, funny, a very talented musician, cute, beautiful, passionate, smart and so much more,” he says, smiling at me and still stroking my hair. “Why can’t you see that?”
Because it’s all a lie, I think, but decide not to say it out loud because I don’t want to ruin the moment by crushing his nice words.
“Thanks,” I mutter in response, giving him a little smile.
“I’m just telling the truth,” he says and bends down again, so his face is hovering only a few inches above mine. “You’re a very lovable, extraordinary man and I love that,” he tells me, right before our lips touch in a sensual kiss.
The kiss is disturbed, though, by a knock on the door. Brendon pulls back and sighs loudly. That must be Spencer and Jon wondering where we are because we need to leave for the next town. Too bad because that means that I can’t be as close to Brendon as I want because we’ll all be sitting in the same bus. Unless we tell them.
“Brendon?” I ask, ignoring the knock on the door. “Do you think we should tell Spencer and Jon about… you know… us?” I ask. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing if they know. Brendon and I will be able to be affectionate with each other even when they are around. I don’t think I can still live without Brendon holding me; I’m already addicted to him and his protective arms.
“If you want to,” he answers, his lips curling into a soft smile. “But maybe it’s better if we do, so we don’t have to sneak behind their backs. They’re our friends after all and they deserve to know what’s going on,” he says, looking down at me. There’s another knock at the door, louder this time.
“Yeah, but, don’t tell them about… the things I did, please,” I plead, sitting upright. “I don’t want them to know, yet. Maybe later,” I add and stand up. Brendon nods in response and stands up as well.
“Of course,” he answers and grabs my non-injured hand in his. I make sure to pull my sleeve over my other hand, covering up the bandage that’s around it. I need to put on my gloves when we get on the bus.
With our hands still entwined, we walk over to the door and open it, facing Jon and Spencer.
“Finally, what took you guys so long?” Jon asks, entering the room.
“Yeah, we need to leave soon, or we’ll be late at tonight’s venue,” Spencer butts in, standing next to Jon and leaning on his shoulder. Then his eyes fall on our linked hands and a little smirk appears on his face. “Why are you guys holding hands?” he questions, looking back up at our faces. “You’re not… are you? Jon, I think you owe me twenty bucks.” He grins, poking Jon in the side.
“Woah, wait, they didn’t answer your question yet,” Jon states, giving me and Brendon an expectant look. “Well, are you?”
Brendon nods, drops my hand and lays his arm around my waist instead to prove his point.
“We are, now shut your holes and let’s leave,” he says and I can’t help but smile at this. That’s exactly what I want. I’d hate it if Jon and Spencer would make a huge fuss over this.
“Yeah, let’s,” I reply, a small smile still playing on my lips. It felt quite good to tell them this. Although I didn’t do much of the telling, but you get what I mean. Spencer and Jon nod, respecting Brendon’s words and dropping the subject.
“Do you have the key card?” I ask before Brendon closes the door behind us.
“Yeah,” he answers and closes the door, still holding my hand. Jon and Spencer are already halfway the hall and I see Jon handing a twenty dollar bill to Spencer. My friends are such idiots. But I love them and I’m glad that they didn’t start bugging us after mine and Brendon’s little announcement. I hope it will stay like this because there’s still a long day ahead of us.