As the Leaves Change in Color

I think I cried myself to sleep that night. I'm a little fuzzy on the memory. But I remember waking up screaming as usual, and wondering why Mikey wasn't showing up to comfort me. And then it hit me: Mikey wasn't here anymore.

And then the anger just started boiling through me, for the first time. Why did all this happen to me? Not only did my boyfriend have to get taken, but my brother? And then I felt this intense hatred for my parents I hadn't never felt before. It was their fault my brother wasn't here anymore. The only family member I had that actually cared about me, just gone.

And then I started thinking about Bert's mother. My father, his mother. They had both torn my life apart. And I hated them. I hated everyone. And I just couldn't take it anymore.

I thought about jumping out the window, and just ending everything now. And then I thought about how stupid that would be. Wasn't I, the great Gerard Arthur Way, above something as petty as suicide?

So I decided I wasn't just gonna piss away my life on suicide. What would Bert say if he found out? He'd bring me back to life just to kill me again.

At the thought of Bert, I smiled. And then the pain hit me again, as soon as I realized I might never see him again. And then a throught struck me: Do I have to live like this? Do I just have to be a poor, helpless loser who does nothing but feel sorry for himself?

No! Of course I don't! And in that moment, I had it decided. I was going to set out to hunt for Bert. I might even find Mikey, and be able to talk him into coming back home. It was a great idea! I didn't have to be that wimp anymore who did nothing but cry and drown in self-pity! All I had to do was pack up some things that were super important to me, and just sneak out. Mom would never know. She didn't even know I existed half the time.

All I had to do was to pack up a few clothes, get what little money I had, maybe a few comics, and a few other things, and I'd be ready to go. So I hunted out a backpack and threw some clothes in it. Mainly just band t-shirts and a bunch of skinny jeans. And my eyeliner. Then I packed up a few comics, and some ideas that I had for comics. Finally, I reached in my secret drawer and pulled out what little money I had in there.

But I saw something else in there besides my whole $20 that caught my attention. Lying neatly in my drawer so as to not get crinkled were some poems. Poems that Bert had written and gave to me, long ago. Man, it seemed like he was happily handing them to me right then and there. Every time I see them, I get this feeling that seems so... odd. I'm not exactly used to feeling 'happy', and I'm not even sure if that's what it is, anyways. All I know is it's a positive feeling, one that I don't that often.

I picked up one of his poems and read it to myself. He called it Empty With You. It was probably my favorite that he had ever written. Not that I didn't love all of his stuff. It was all great. This one just stood out for me as being the best. As I read the words over and over, I felt oddly comforted. As if I just read a promise that he would return back one of these days, and to not worry, to just be patient.

I read it over again before putting it back, and as I pulled the backpack over my shoulder and walked out the back door, I realized I was whispering to myself. What was I whispering, you may ask? One of the best things my boyfriend had ever written to me.

"You could be empty, and I would be right there empty with you."