When Love and Death Embrace

He was keeping to himself as we walked down the streets. His hands buried deep in the jacket pockets, it was my jacket. The hood pulled up to shield his face from everyone that walked by. I wondered if it was because of me.

Deciding I wanted a much more lively tour guide I quickly strode up behind him and pinched the top of the hood between my fingers before pulling it down.

“What the hell?!”

His voice filled the empty street as he spun around to glare at me with tired eyes.

“Look I don’t know who you fucking think you are but leave me alone. You show up to my house without me knowing, wake me up, go through my shit and now you’re forcing me to take you on this ridiculous tour. The least you could do is leave my shit alone,” he snapped all while pulling the hood back up on his head.

Looking at him, I tilted my head to the side before smiling and pushed the hood back off of his head. It was an act that he hadn’t expected and I could tell by his widened eyes.

“If you really didn’t want to give me a tour you could have sent me away if you tried hard enough. You’re the one being rude by ignoring me,” I explained.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he defended before turning on his feet and stalked down the sidewalk.

“You could have fooled me,” I stated as I caught back up with him.

“I don’t know you, I don’t want to know you. I was perfectly content with myself before you showed up,” he replied.

“Really now? So depression means content huh? Who would have thought,” I sighed.

“I’m not depressed,” his tone was bitter.

“You’re in denial, Frankie boy. You don’t like to talk about him, and I know you cry a lot. You can’t fool me.”

He came to a stop, head tilting to look up at me with watery eyes.

“You don’t know what its like so don’t pretend that you do. So what if I’m depressed? I loved him, and he died so I think I have a right to feel like this. I don’t like to talk about him because it hurts. Is it so wrong to not want to hurt? Huh?”

“It’ll only get worse unless you open up to someone. I never said it was wrong to miss him or to be sad, so don’t make it seem like I did. All I want to know is if he would want you to be doing this to yourself? Just think about that alright? If he could be here right now, and see how you’ve been dealing with this would he be happy?”

I wanted to tell him no, because I wasn’t happy with how he was handling all of this. Of course I wanted him to be upset; anyone would want to know that their death caused grief. It meant that people had cared, but I didn’t want it to last this long. I didn’t want him to suffer anymore.

A few stray tears fell from his eyes as he looked away and cleared his throat murmuring the answer but I couldn’t hear him.

“What was that?”

“No, okay?” he choked looking back at me.

Sighing angrily he pulled a hand from his pocket and wiped the tears before shoving it back into its spot and looked at the ground.

“He wouldn’t… he would hate it, but I don’t know what to do. My friends don’t understand and I don’t want them to try and come up with the answer. My Mom just tells me it’ll get better, but its not. So what the hell am I supposed to do?”

I smiled sadly and took a step closer hoping he wouldn’t close back up and walk away.
“You could talk to me, I’ve dealt with loss before,” I answered.

“I don’t know you. I’ve only seen you twice, and I don’t just open up to people,” he stated.

“Then what do you call the last few minutes? You opened up to me,” the glare came back as he huffed and looked away again.

“You got lucky and that doesn’t happen often. But like I said, I don’t know you.”

“Then take the chance to get to know me. I’m not a bad guy, at least that’s what I’ve been told. I’m just… odd,” I grinned childishly.

Rolling his eyes he looked back up at me and bit his lip. I could see that battle in his eyes. He wanted to walk away, but at the same time I knew he didn’t want to hurt anymore.

“Do you like music?”

The question was simple but I couldn’t help the grin that spread on my face again.

“I fucking love music, Frankie,” I answered seeing the small tug at the corner of his lip which he quickly covered with his hand.

“There’s a music store not far from here. Its nothing special but it has a lot of good stuff in it,” he explained, the hand now gone from his face.

“Well then, Mr. Iero, would you lead the way?”

He nodded scuffing his shoe on the concrete and gave a small laugh before motioning with his head down the street and started to walk away. I stood there watching as he walked, his head held higher now, his shoulders straight. Already he seemed to be in a better mood, and I only hoped that he would continue to get better.