Born and Broken Every Single Time.

“Gerard,” I muttered after I knocked on his door, opening it slightly to peak in. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He looked up from his bed of which he sat crossed legged on reading a comic casually. His smile was faint, his comment seemed pretty dismissive, seeming that he just wanted me to leave him alone. Part of me wanted to, because it was down to him I had to face I had a problem – a problem that I still refused to believe I had. But the other part of me didn’t, the part of me that screamed someone cared, someone actually wanted to listen to me and actually just let me vent my feelings.

“No,” I pressed as I walked in. His room was set up similarly to Mikeys and had the same style of chair which I perched myself on the end of before continuing. “I acted like a bratty kid. You were just trying to help.”

“Frank it’s fine seriously.” He closed his comic book and repositioned himself, sitting on the edge of his bed right next to me. “You don’t see anything wrong, you don’t want to talk. I get it.”

“But I do,” I blurted out without thinking. I found it strange to admit I had an urge to confide seeing as I spent most of my time keeping things to myself. I had once kept a diary, but someone read it – every sordid detail – and then tried to blackmail me with it. It was a serious kick to my confidence to confide. If you can’t confide to a mere piece of paper, who can you confide into? I moved on though, the thoughts of insecurity still haunted me at times.

“Then talk,” Gerard smiled calmly. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say. I know when you need to talk and no-ones there its hell. But I know when you don’t want to talk and people piss you off it’s even worse.”

“Yeah.” I laughed slightly at his truthful statement. I leaned back on the chair, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my arms on my knees trying to think of how to start. “I don’t know what I want to say, but I just need to talk. That doesn’t make sense wait.”

“It makes perfect sense.” He crossed his legs as he replied, leaning his elbow on his knee and chin on his hand before continuing. “Right, are you going to take the pills?”

“I guess I’ll have to,” I sighed. “But please, please don’t tell anyone I have them. I hate people worrying.”

“Of course, of course.” It seemed too perfect. Someone who actually let me talk, and more than that respected my requests. Even when it came to the pizza, he didn’t force more than was manageable. I’ve had to put up with physical attempts at force-feeding before - it’s horrible.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “I’ll leave you be now.”

I got up and ignored his attempts to tell me I didn’t have to. I didn’t want to over do it. I felt a minor sense of contentment knowing I could talk to him, but didn’t want to spill my life to him at first. If it makes any sense I felt I’d leave the opportunity open for sometime I really needed it, if such a time came and that I wouldn’t keep going to him and wasting both of our times with my ramblings.

As I slumped back onto the bed and rummaged for the remote I knocked the drink on the cabinet next to the bed, spilling it on myself and resulting in swearing of contempt at my carelessness. I quickly pulled my shirt off, throwing it in the wash basket by my side and rummaging through my bag for a dry shirt. I was typically known for packing more shirts than I needed. For a one night stay I brought three shirts with the idea that I preferred to have a choice.

“Frank-“ Gerard walked in and stopped as he saw my shirtless self, rummaging through my bag for a replacement. “Sorry I didn’t knock.”

“It’s okay,” I smiled half through awkwardness, half through embarrassment as I stood up with a shirt clasped in my hands.

“Shit Frank,” he said as he walked over. “I didn’t know you were that thin.”

I looked down at myself before looking in the mirror and assessing the damage. It was strange to see your own ribs however faint or defined they may be. I’d grown used to it but no one else had ever seen me bare since my weight loss began. I tried to shrug Gerards comment off but I felt my heart gradually sinking. I threw my shirt on quickly, trying to cover up – a sudden modesty developing in conjunction with my appearance.

I sat down on the bed, feeling my eyes wanting to well up but using every mortal fibre in my body to fight that happening. Gerard sat down beside me as I rested my head in my hands. Although I looked down at my legs, I could see out the corner of my eye he was looking at me, his eyes probably concerning. He put his arm round me, rested his hand tightly on my shoulder and pulling me loosely closer to him.

“Look Frank,” he spoke gently. “You can talk to me whenever, just phone or come round or something, or if you’re staying here longer I’m just down the hall. I’ve seen enough people face having no-one, I won’t let it happen again.”

“Thank you,” I smiled weakly as I faced him. “But seriously. Why do you bother?”

The statement seemed harsher than the sentiment, but I’m pretty sure he understood what I meant. He laughed in a whispered fashion, glancing briefly to the ground before looking back at me.

“You don’t see it, do you Frank?” he smiled. “I care.”