Get off the Ledge and Drop the Knife

*Frank’s POV*
“Do you want nuts?” I asked Gerard. Our hands were linked and we were strolling down Central Park Avenue, towards the next entrance to the park.

“Huh?” Gerard asked, as if I asked him the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Some nuts,” I clarified, pointing to the stand where a guy was selling honey roasted peanuts for just a dollar.

“Oooooh,” Gerard realized. “Yeah, sure.”
We stopped at the stand and I bought us a pack of peanuts to share.

“Thanks, babe,” Gerard pecked my cheek and linked out fingers again since they had been separated as I was paying.

“No problem, Gee,” I told him as we finally arrived at one of the many entrances to Central Park. “I’ve never been here.”

Gerard stopped walking, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, why not?”

I thought about it for a moment before responding,” I never found the need to.”

He shook his head, “There’s never a need to go to this huge ass parl. You just go.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t much of a big deal to me. We began walking again and I noticed the greenery surrounding me, the squirrels scurrying around, the people jogging. All in the center of New York City. Gerard guided out way through the park since he was clearly the one who knew it better out of the two of us. Soon, we were on a narrow path closed in by dark green plants. We had to slow down a bit since there were people walking in front of us. In the distance, I could swear I heard the faint sounds of someone strumming a guitar and maybe someone singing. I looked around us and noticed a lot of people were walking in the same direction as us. I was confused. It was as if everybody was eager to see what was at the end of the path.

A few seconds later, I got my answer. The path finally widened again and I saw a ton of people standing around a circle on the floor. One person was indeed playing guitar and singing. He was playing John Lennon’s “Imagine”. I looked at the huge circle and gasped.
Gerard hugged me and whispered, “Welcome to Strawberry Fields, Frank.”
In the center of the circle was the word “Imagine”. The circle was lined with roses and people stood around and snapped pictures of it with their camera phones. Some people were singing along with the guitar player, some sat with their eyes closed, smiles plastered to their faces. It was such a beautiful thing to see. So many people gathered because of a common belief, a common love for one man. Standing there, you could forget your own problems for just a minute and be united with other people.

“This is beautiful,” I told Gerard, who now had his arms wrapped around my stomach and his neck resting on my shoulder.

“Almost as beautiful as you,” he told me. I smiled a genuine smiled, slowly turned around and placed my hands on his cheeks. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He pulled me closer to him and deepened our kiss. We didn’t open our mouths, just massaged each other’s’ lips and no one around seemed to care. I had never felt so elated in my life.
I pulled away and whispered, “Thank you for taking me here.” He nodded and grabbed my hand again before leading me to a small field. We entered it and sat down on the grass together. I noticed a few other people sitting in the field quietly. Some reading, some meditating. I pulled the peanuts out of my pocket and we began to share them. I fed him and he fed me.

After we finished eating, Gerard spoke, “Frank, I’m sorry you had to find out about me that way.”

I looked into his hazel eyes and any anger I had for him last night vanished. “Gerard, it’s okay. At least I found out.”

He nodded, “I know. I just wish I had the guts to tell you myself.”

I shook my head, “Don’t sweat it. I’m over it now, okay?”

“Okay.”

I hesitated before asking my next questions, “Can I see the scar?”

Gerard nodded and shrugged his leather jacket off. I put his arm in my lap and gasped. I wondered why I had never noticed it before when his arms were bare. The letters were huge and sloppy and were just a shade darker than his skin tone. They were deep – just like the cuts I liked to have. They were obvious.

“I used cover up,” Gerard said, as if reading my mind.

“Oh,” I replied. I thought of the slash on my own foot. I thought of how I believed I wanted to die, but I actually didn’t want to. It was a cry for help. I wanted to be with Gerard. I didn’t want to separate myself from him. And it was stupid of me to try.

I brought his arm up to my lips and kissed one of the scars. “Thanks for saving me.”