Three Cheers

"Let it out, babe. Let it out."

The sound of Gerard's wrenching made my stomach turn. Still, I knelt beside him, holding his messy, greasy hair back. He groaned at himself, holding his head as best he could, while his fingers gripped the bowl tightly.

"Ugh!" He groaned and leaned back.

I let go of his hair, watching him fall back against the wall opposite the toilet, right on his ass. I couldn't help but to feel hurt and sick and annoyed all in one. I couldn't stand the drunk Gerard anymore.

Things between Gerard and I were amazing after we got married. His band's career took off and I started my own successful clothing line; Merci Por Le Venin, thanks to Gerard. We were both very busy, but we made sure we talked to each other every single day.

While he would be out on tour, I was setting up fashion shows and meeting with magazine advertisers and models. I had spent a lot of my time thinking and loving Gerard, also dueling it with my career. Nothing got in the way of our marriage.

We hadn't had any kids, and we assured one another that we would definitely have one before we were 30. Gerard was stoked about having a baby, but he knew that having one so quickly would put a strain on what we wanted to do. Even so, we were happy as ever.

But, as the good times rolled, something bad had to happen. It was devastating, it broke Gerard, and his little brother, to pieces. Their grandmother, Helena, passed away.

Gerard had told me all about her before I had actually met her. She taught him everything, she was a sweet woman who loved Gerard and Mikey more than anything. Helena had been very sweet to me when I met her, and I was sadden, too, at her sudden passing.

Gerard spiraled out of control. His drinking, which was moderately controlled, slowly began to grow out of control. After Helena passed, he drank morning, noon and night; we would argue a lot about it. The arguing was new, we never, ever argued; we never even disagreed about a damn thing. Now, we argued everyday and I found myself deepening into depression once again.

But, I hung on. I'm his wife and I promised to be with him through sickness and health; thick and thin. I bucked up and chord him through a lot of the hangovers and staggering. It bothered me to see him hurt and destroying himself. He wasn't himself, he was becoming this monstrous stranger to me; it frightened me.

"I love you." He slurred with his eyes closed; mouth open, spit and vomit on on his chin and shirt.

"Gerard, you have to stop this." I told him.

Saying this fell on deaf ears.

"I'll get better." He grumbled; this is his usual response.

I sighed, helping him stand and stagger to the sink to brush his teeth. It was like I was dealing with a 26 year old baby; he couldn't hold his tooth brush, he could barely stand on his own.

"Gee, c'mon, you gotta do this." I told him softly.

He groaned, opened his mouth and let me brush his teeth. A few times, I had done this, I had cried. I sobbed because I felt as if Gerard was doing this all on purpose. He was doing this because he wanted to destroy himself. He was doing that and slowly pushing me away.

No more had I seen my other half. The love of my life; the yin to my yang. He disappeared when he lost someone close.

I couldn't be a bitch and tell him to get over it, because he truly loved his grandmother. I, myself, only truly loved Gerard and I hadn't lost anyone. I didn't know what it was like, because when I had lost him, I had a feeling I would get him back. But, Helena is gone, and she isn't coming back. Gerard could barely stand to live without her.

After brushing his teeth, I helped him to our bed and stripped him of his clothing. He mumbled a thank you before he rolled beneath the covers. I tucked him in, kissed his forehead and climbed in the other side.

Gerard mumbled in his drunken sleep, and I rolled over on my side, so my back was facing him. Every night this happened and every night I cried. I was at a loss for help and how to deal. I'm madly in love with Gerard, but more than once I had contemplated divorce. I thought maybe it would snap him from his self destruction, but I knew it wouldn't.

I confided in Frances and Mikey about it; Mikey was just as worried as I was about Gerard. The pills and the drinking were out of control. I had told Mikey that I didn't think I could make it, that I felt like I would end up divorcing Gerard.

"Don't do that." Mikey pleaded, almost, with me, "If you do, I think he'll hurt himself."

The look Mikey had given me was that of a desperate man. I had sucked my bottom lip in, "What do you mean?"

"I think he'd kill himself."

I knew that, that would be true. That Gerard would lose it and commit suicide. He would throw himself over the edge if he felt anymore abandonment. He needed me, and I forced myself to be there. I love him and I would do anything for him; but at times, I felt as if I had, had a limit.

I couldn't do it on my own.