Status: alive and well :)
Moth to Flame
the difference in the shades
Oscar and I are sitting in the car while Gerard buys a new pack of cigarettes. It’s weird because we aren’t talking even though there is so much to be said. When he looks at me his eyes as ”Why won’t you say something?” and all I can give him is a small smile and a squeeze to his knee. I want to tell him that I love him, but sometimes love isn’t enough; sometimes loving a person can’t make you all the way happy. I want to tell him this, but I don’t want to see his frown on his face and the despondency in his eyes. I don’t want to be the guy that broke his heart.
Gerard comes back with his cigarettes and climbs into the car saying “Fuckers cost me six fucking bucks.” He looks at me, pissed off that he had to spend so much money on cancer sticks. “Can you believe that shit?”
I kind of laugh a little bit and shake my head. Everything feels sort of better now that Gerard is back and I think it’s because I feel like he understands. Even though I’ve never told him exactly what I’m feeling I think he knows and I think he kind of gets it.
“I can believe it, Gerard,” I tell him, looking to the back seat. “They were close to six bucks a few months ago. In this economy the prices were bound to go up a few more cents.”
He shook his head as he took one from the pack. He looked at it, sighed, and stuck it between his lips before lighting up. A few seconds later he was blowing smoke out the window and shaking his head some more. “Six bucks and fifty-seven fucking cents… and for what? Fucked up lungs and a greater chance at cancer.”
“Maybe you should consider quitting,” Oscar suggested.
Gerard held his cigarette between his lips and looked outside as if he were actually considering the option. “You know, Oscar… I’ve thought about that. I’ve thought about quitting and I’ve actually even tried it a few times. To be honest, I just can’t fucking do it. It’s too hard and I’ve stopped caring enough to try again.”
“So you don’t care that you’re shortening your life span?” Oscar asks. “You’re basically killing
yourself.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gerard said, blowing smoke out the window. “I look at it like this, though. We’re all dying. From the day we’re born, we’re dying. I’m gonna die anyways, sooner or later, so I might as well live life as I please. Besides, I’m not the type of person that would do well in my seventies. “
Oscar looks at me. “What do you think, Frankie?”
I shrug. “I don’t like the idea of cancer, but I can’t see myself quitting. It’s just… it’s so hard, you know? It’s easier to just keep doing it.”
“So you don’t care that it’s killing you?”
I look out the window, avoiding eye contact. I hated this. I hated that Oscar cared so much. I hated that he loved to smile and that he was a generally happy guy. I hated that he was good for me and wanted me to be safe all the time. I hated that Oscar was so fucking perfect.
He made me feel bad for not being exactly who he was and not liking all the same things. Even though he would never say it out loud, I know that he’s disappointed. I know he hates that I smoke cigarettes and I know that he hates that I curse too much. I know that he wants me to go to church and I know it kind of aggravates him that I find it so hard to believe that there really is a God out there and all he wants for me is good things. Generally, I know he wishes that I had more faith in him and, more importantly, myself.
Even now, as he’s asking me about cigarettes, I know it’s more than that. It’s bigger than cancer and bad habits and the difficulty of putting the Newports behind me. It’s about whether or not I value my life. It’s about the lengths I would go to keep myself alive for as long as
possible.
“I don’t know, Oscar,” I told him. “I’ve never really thought about it that way.”
Gerard tosses his cigarette out the window and leans forward in his seat. He looks at me and kind of grins a little bit before speaking. “Why don’t we just drop this subject, yeah?” He says. “It’s getting kind of touchy and I’m not in the mood for fighting.”
I want to kiss him and tell him thanks, but I know it’s not a good idea since Oscar is here. I feel bad because I wish Oscar was just a little more like Gerard. I wish he didn’t care so much about my bad habits. I wish he would tell me exactly how he felt and cared a little less about my feelings and I wish I didn’t have to think twice about everything I said.
“Yeah,” Oscar says. “Sure.”
I nod, turning to face Gerard. “That’s probably best…”
When I look at him I think about how he’d told me that he loved me a few days ago while Oscar was sleeping. I can still feel the cool breeze skimming past my arms as we roamed the streets at night, Gerard’s arm draped lazily around my shoulder. I think about how the words slipped so easily from his tongue and I remember how happy I was.
But when I look at him, I’m still slightly disappointed because it wasn’t the same. Gerard wraps his arms around me and says that he loves me, but it’s not in the same way that Oscar says it.
He doesn’t say “Te amo.”
Gerard comes back with his cigarettes and climbs into the car saying “Fuckers cost me six fucking bucks.” He looks at me, pissed off that he had to spend so much money on cancer sticks. “Can you believe that shit?”
I kind of laugh a little bit and shake my head. Everything feels sort of better now that Gerard is back and I think it’s because I feel like he understands. Even though I’ve never told him exactly what I’m feeling I think he knows and I think he kind of gets it.
“I can believe it, Gerard,” I tell him, looking to the back seat. “They were close to six bucks a few months ago. In this economy the prices were bound to go up a few more cents.”
He shook his head as he took one from the pack. He looked at it, sighed, and stuck it between his lips before lighting up. A few seconds later he was blowing smoke out the window and shaking his head some more. “Six bucks and fifty-seven fucking cents… and for what? Fucked up lungs and a greater chance at cancer.”
“Maybe you should consider quitting,” Oscar suggested.
Gerard held his cigarette between his lips and looked outside as if he were actually considering the option. “You know, Oscar… I’ve thought about that. I’ve thought about quitting and I’ve actually even tried it a few times. To be honest, I just can’t fucking do it. It’s too hard and I’ve stopped caring enough to try again.”
“So you don’t care that you’re shortening your life span?” Oscar asks. “You’re basically killing
yourself.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gerard said, blowing smoke out the window. “I look at it like this, though. We’re all dying. From the day we’re born, we’re dying. I’m gonna die anyways, sooner or later, so I might as well live life as I please. Besides, I’m not the type of person that would do well in my seventies. “
Oscar looks at me. “What do you think, Frankie?”
I shrug. “I don’t like the idea of cancer, but I can’t see myself quitting. It’s just… it’s so hard, you know? It’s easier to just keep doing it.”
“So you don’t care that it’s killing you?”
I look out the window, avoiding eye contact. I hated this. I hated that Oscar cared so much. I hated that he loved to smile and that he was a generally happy guy. I hated that he was good for me and wanted me to be safe all the time. I hated that Oscar was so fucking perfect.
He made me feel bad for not being exactly who he was and not liking all the same things. Even though he would never say it out loud, I know that he’s disappointed. I know he hates that I smoke cigarettes and I know that he hates that I curse too much. I know that he wants me to go to church and I know it kind of aggravates him that I find it so hard to believe that there really is a God out there and all he wants for me is good things. Generally, I know he wishes that I had more faith in him and, more importantly, myself.
Even now, as he’s asking me about cigarettes, I know it’s more than that. It’s bigger than cancer and bad habits and the difficulty of putting the Newports behind me. It’s about whether or not I value my life. It’s about the lengths I would go to keep myself alive for as long as
possible.
“I don’t know, Oscar,” I told him. “I’ve never really thought about it that way.”
Gerard tosses his cigarette out the window and leans forward in his seat. He looks at me and kind of grins a little bit before speaking. “Why don’t we just drop this subject, yeah?” He says. “It’s getting kind of touchy and I’m not in the mood for fighting.”
I want to kiss him and tell him thanks, but I know it’s not a good idea since Oscar is here. I feel bad because I wish Oscar was just a little more like Gerard. I wish he didn’t care so much about my bad habits. I wish he would tell me exactly how he felt and cared a little less about my feelings and I wish I didn’t have to think twice about everything I said.
“Yeah,” Oscar says. “Sure.”
I nod, turning to face Gerard. “That’s probably best…”
When I look at him I think about how he’d told me that he loved me a few days ago while Oscar was sleeping. I can still feel the cool breeze skimming past my arms as we roamed the streets at night, Gerard’s arm draped lazily around my shoulder. I think about how the words slipped so easily from his tongue and I remember how happy I was.
But when I look at him, I’m still slightly disappointed because it wasn’t the same. Gerard wraps his arms around me and says that he loves me, but it’s not in the same way that Oscar says it.
He doesn’t say “Te amo.”
♠ ♠ ♠
updatttee :DI hope you all enjoyed it.
By the way, I took the title of this chapter from a bright eyes song of the same name.