Gotta Have You

Almost 3 months since the break up and neither of us have had a second date. I'd only had two dates period, each with different guys. One from the grocery store and one from the dog park; neither went anywhere special. As you already know, I ran out of my first one, and the second guy turned out to be a creep.

So now, here I am, out with the guys for my birthday. I was sitting in a booth, surrounded by friends who wanted to help me get through this, but all I'd been doing was drinking shot...after shot.... after shot... after shot. Whiskey had always been my drink of choice when I wanted to forget.

"Frank, don't you think you've had enough?" Mikey said. Alicia was tucked into the crook of his shoulder, looking happy, but with a sense of worry to it. She and I had always been close, ever since she and Mikey had started dating. We were always willing to dish about the Way boys together. But Mikey and I had never been out without you there with us. It was weird seeing him alone, even after all this time. "You're thinking of him, aren't you?"

"No." I lied stubbornly.

"Frank, I know it hurts, but this isn't helping." MIkey said. "You're just going to hurt worse tomorrow morning. Trust me. I know. I had a brother who drank away his sorrows for years."

"Oh, shit." I said. Even in my drunken state, I remembered how your drinking had affected you and was immediately worried. "Has he... you know, since I left?"

"No." Mikey said. "He gave that shit up for you, and only you. And he refuses to do anything because it could risk his chances of getting you back. He knows how much you want him to stay sober."

I nodded slowly, feeling worse than I did earlier that night.

"I'm gonna go get another drink." I announced, slurring my words slightly.

"Frank, I'm serious. That's enough."

"It's my life. Don't try and tell me what to do."

I stumbled over to the bar, ordering another Jameson to counteract the pain of remembering you for the hundredth time that night. The bartender refused to serve me another, saying that I'd had too much. Stupid fucking bartenders. They're just like Mikey, trying to control my life.

"I'm completely fine!" I slurred. "Just gimme a shot, goddamnit!"

"Sir, I've already served you 9 tonight, as well as 3 beers, and you've only been here an hour. I can't serve you without knowing you'll be okay and I'm pretty unsure right now."

"Hey, man, can I get a whiskey?"

"What kind?" the bartender said to the rude guy who'd just butted in.

"What would you recommend?" rude guy said.

"I'm a fan of all of them." I said.

"I'll get whatever he's been having. Seems like it does the trick." he said, chuckling.

The bartender left and came back with a shot shortly after, finally leaving me alone.

"Here." the new guy said when the bartender was out of sight. "Take it."

Hm, not so rude after al. I took the offered shot glass and downed it all in one go, relishing the familiar burning on my tongue. It probably wasn't too smart to be taking drinks from a stranger, but I was drunk, sue me.

"I'm David." not-so-rude guy said.

"Frank." I said, offering an unstable hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Wanna dance?"

I quickly weighed my options and wondered what I had to lose My dignity, your love, my self-respect, my STD-free body Aw, fuck it.

"Why not?"

---------------

Thirty minutes later, I was making out furiously with a guy I'd just met and forgot the name of twenty minutes ago. He had me pinned up against the wall of his apartment in some unknown part of New York City. All in all, my life was going downhill, fast.

I felt a nibble on my neck and felt lips pressing roughly against my sweet spot, causing me to moan.

"Oh, Gerard." I groaned, shivering.

"What? No, I'm David, remember?" the guy, David, said. "You keep calling me Gerard."

My drunken mind finally processed something. Tonight was the first time I'd said your name out loud since the break up. And it felt like a slap across the face.

I suddenly felt very sober, pushing David off of me.

"I have to go." I said. "I can't do this. You're not him. I don't love you."

"You don't know me." David said. "And I don't know you. I thought you were cool with the whole one-night-stand thing? We both just need a... release." He pulled me towards him by my belt loops, only to be punched in the jaw.

"Don't fucking touch me." I said, walking out the door to my left. Luckily, I could still function enough to find my way out of a bad situation.

You won't even let me have one measly one-night stand. Even when I'm drunk off my ass, I can't get you off of my mind. I miss you so much, Gee.

Why could't I just accept your work hours and make the most of the times we did have together? Why can't I just apologize like I used to and be able to hold you in my arms again?

The answer is, I'm too proud. I'm too stubborn and, as much as I hate to admit it, scared to face you, knowing you have the option to reject me. I was never one to make the first move, as you very well know.

I just can't live without you any more...

But I just can't do it. Not when you're probably better off without me...