Help Me Tame This Animal I Have Become

I waited patiently as the phone rang. After five rings, Mikey finally picked up.
"Hello?" he asked. He sounded like he just ran a mile.
"Hey Mikey," I greeted him. "What's wrong? You sound like you just did a triatholon."
He coughed and laughed, "I was in another part of the house and ran to answer the phone."
"Uh-huh," I said, not sure if I believed him.
"I tripped and fell over a chair on the way," he said shamelessly.
I chuckled, "That makes sense." I took a moment to gather my thoughts before bringing up the topic I called about: Gerard. It was the day after our date and I was still confused over his behavior. It wasn't normal, to say the least. "I wanted to ask about Gerard."
"What about him?" Mikey asked, feigning being intrigued.
"What's his deal?"
"What do you mean?" Mikey asked again, still acting like he didn't know what I was talking about.
"You know damn well what I mean, Mikey Way," I snapped.
He sighed, "Look, Frank, you're just gooing to have to ask him. And whether he tells you or not is his decision."
I sighed, "Fine. Thanks anyway."
"No hard feelings?"
"No. I respect you for keeping his business his," I told him. And it was true, but I still wanted to know what was going on. Mikey and I said our goodbyes and we hung up. I immediately texted Gerard:
Hey, wanna come over tonight?
xo Frank
I managed to pee, fix myself a sandwich, and eat it before he finally texted me back with:
I don't know, Frank
I immediately fired back saying:
It's not a date. Just hanging out.
After a few minutes of staring at my phone, I got a reply from Gerard:
...Ok. I'll be there at 6
I smiled to myself. Of course it was a date. It was going to be the perfect date.
----------------------
I immediately began cleaning my hoouse, placing everything in it's respectable place. I washed the dishes, wiped the counters, swept the kitchen floor, and vacuumed the carpet. I even scrubbed the toilet. My house had to be spotless for Gerard. I laid out some art magazines and music magazines on the coffee table in hope of sparking some interest in Gerard. I also laid out some of my old issues of Batman, just in case. I called the local Italian restaurant and, unsure of what Gerard likes, ordered a simple baked ziti with salad. I took a quick shower and dressed in a tight, black, button-down shurt and tight black jeans. I quickle turned the coffee maker on before sitting on my couch to wait for Gerard. Then I realized that it was 6:10 and he was late. I frowned. The doorbell suddenly rang and I smiled as I waslked over to the door and opened it. My smiled faded when I realized it was just the delivery guy with the food. I handed over the correct amount
for the food and shut the door. I only got to the kitchen counter and placed the food down when the doorbell rang again. I walked over to it and threw it open angrily. And there stood Gerard.
He smirked, "Hi."
"You're late," I told him.
"I know," he said. "I was doing something."
"Doing what?" I asked.
"Nothing. Now are you going to let me in?"
I pushed the door open and stepped out of his way so he could enter. "nice place."
I shrugged. It had your common and simple furniture. It was hardly personalized, and the walls were as white as they were when I moved in.
"I made coffee, if you want some," I announced.
"He smiled. "I'd actually love some."
I poured us each a cup and we sat down on my sofa. "I also had some Italian food delivered. I hope you like ziti."
"Oh, thanks," he said and continued to sip his coffee. I watched as his eyes glazed over the magazines and comics I left out. There was a sense of longing in his eyes again, but he made no move to pick anything up.
"So, Gerard," I started, trying to settle the awkward feeling. "Have you got a job?"
"Nope. I kind of rely on Mikey," he admitted, obviously embarassed.
"Oh, there's nothing wrong with that," I said, trying to assure him.
"Oh, come on, Frank. My little brother takes care of me," he said somewhat angrily.
"I'm sure there's a good reason for that."
Gerard shrugged and his anger disappeared as he looked into his mug of coffee. "I just can't get a job."
"I could get you one at the music store," I offered.
"No thanks," he said quickly without giving any thought to it.
"Okay," I said, letting the obiously sensitive topic go. "We should eat before the food gets cold." He nodded in agreement.
We walked to the kitchen were I served us a fair portion of ziti. We sat down at the small table in my dining area and ate. He ate slowly and forked a small portin at a time. I shoveled food into my mouth hurridly, as if someone was going to tak it from me. It was a bit gross. We at in silence, and by the time we were done, my plate was empty while his still had half his food left over.
After making sure he was really done, I cleared our plates and washed the dishes while he wondered around my small house. When I entered the living room, Gerard was sitting on the couch staring at the magazines.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Huh?" His head snapped toward me. "Yeah, I'm fine."
I sat down next to him on the couch. He moved away, creating space between us. My brow furrowed in frustration.
"Gerard, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked a beat heatidly.
"Nothing, Frank."
"Don't give me that shit, Gerard. You don't let me touch you in any way. You always have a distant look on your face. You have these moodswings. It's like you're barely here," I snapped.
He sighed. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"Fine." He angled himself to look in my eyes. "A year ago, I was attacked. Ever since then, I've had issues."
"What kind of issues?"
"Just issued," he said before he got up, walked to my door, and left without saying another word.