Status: In process.

Three Words You Never Want to Hear

Playing With Fire

The pain we feel when we loose someone is excruciating.

The pain we feel when we loose someone we love is deadly.

Have you ever cared about someone so much, that you don’t even care if they aren’t with you, as long as they’re happy? Even though it may burn inside to watch them with someone else, you’d rather writhe in pain and see them smile than to selfishly picture yourself with them?

Have you ever loved someone so much, that it hurts to be around them, but it also hurts to be away from them? Knowing that you are so close to never seeing them again and just feeling torn as to whether you should give into the temptation of them and have it hurt more later, or to ignore them so as to soften the blow?

Have you ever tormented yourself over the thought of loosing them, knowing that there was absolutely nothing you could do to prevent it from happening? All I wanted was to be with him, even if I couldn’t be with him in the sense that I wanted, I just wanted to be near him. He was growing so weak that we barely ever touched, but you know what? It was okay. It was okay because I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of simply being around him. Of watching his grin spread across his face when he saw me, of hearing his beautiful voice sing to me in ways that nobody else could, of smelling the sweet scent of his hair I held him close. I didn’t know what I would do when I could no longer hold him, it hurt just to think about what life without him would be like. A physical pain would slice through my stomach, making me feel sick every time I tried to imagine a world without him.
Knowing that I would never again feel his soothing touch when I needed it, made me want to cry my eyes out. Just feeling the way I felt in that very moment made me almost wish I had never cared for him at all. But even with the piercing pain in my heart I couldn’t bring myself to utter the thought again, because to have loved is better than to never have loved, and I finally understood that saying. No matter how hard it hurt to loose him, and holy hell did it hurt, I knew that loving him was one of the best things to happen to me.

Seeing his smile on a daily basis would always brighten up my day, and put any worries that I would have right behind me, completely forgotten. When I was with him, he was the only person in the room to me, everyone else would just vanish and I would just feel so calm and safe. Just small things he would do would make me feel so special, so loved. The way he would soothingly stroke my hair when he knew that I was feeling down, the way he would stroke my arm lightly every time he walked past, as if to tell me he cared. It was the small things that would hurt the most, and I could already feel the void setting in, even though he was still around me. The constant thought of him being gone would cloud over the moments we shared together, and my smiles were becoming less and less real by the second. His words of comfort would bounce off of me like a spring on a trampoline, and there was absolutely nothing that he could do to bring me out of my depression.

I put on a show for him, smiling, making jokes, acting as if seeing him didn’t make me want to scream, because every time I saw him all I could feel was the pain of him being gone, and he hadn’t even left me yet. I couldn’t bare it. I couldn’t loose him. I didn’t want to, and I felt so fucking helpless as I watched the man that I loved slowly drift away. There was nothing I could do except watch, and I hated myself for it. Every time I would tell him how much he meant to me, but all I wanted to do was burst into tears and lay my head on his shoulder, hold onto him as tight as I could and never let him go. I wanted to scream that I would miss him, but I knew that no matter how loud I screamed he would never feel the true extent to which I would truly miss him. I could never make him understand just how much him leaving me hurt, and to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted him to know. He meant more to me than I would ever care to admit to him, I may have told him that I loved him, and I may have tried to show him how I felt, but if he really knew just how agonising it was for me to loose him…

I couldn’t. But I had to.

So I had to breathe through it.

I had to act as if I wasn’t constantly trying to hold back tears. I had to smile and strain against the urge to just turn into a blubbering mess, begging him not to leave me. I knew that he couldn’t help it, and I knew that it was selfish for me to feel this way, but I wanted him around for as long as he could manage.

I didn’t like seeing him in pain, but part of me would feel angry at him, which was so wrong, but I would feel angry that he wasn’t fighting hard enough to stay for good. I would sometimes blame him, blame him for dying on me, but I knew it was just my desperation for him to stay that was driving these thoughts. I’d then feel unbearable guilt at such thoughts, and I’d have to fight the urge to cut, to punish myself.

I knew that he wouldn’t like it if I did give into the urge, but sometimes I would find myself sat on the end of my bed, razor in hand, shaking, and all I would want more than anything was to press it against my skin.

But I didn’t.

If Gerard could fight, then so could I. I knew that goodbye was the hardest thing that I was ever going to live through, but I could. I could live through it. Because sometimes in life, we loose things that mean the most to us, but we learn to move on. Just because I couldn’t imagine a life without him now didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be one. I had to be optimistic, no matter how much every fibre of my being was telling me to give up. I had to fight.
I lay in my bed, eyes on the ceiling.

Gerard was downstairs, drinking coffee, his head resting against his little brother’s shoulder, wrapped up in a blanket and watching television. I had decided to give him some quality time with his brother, as I felt like I was constantly in the way. I knew that Mikey had said that me being with Gerard was not bothering him at all, and that it even made him happy, but there was still a part of me that felt guilty for being around all the time when Mikey probably wanted to be next to Gerard just as much as I did. Sure, he saw Gerard every second of the day, but I was always there, and when I was there I felt like Mikey was left out at times. We tried not to leave Mikey out, but sometimes we’d get caught in a moment and forget he was even there. He needed time with his brother.

My phone buzzed, hopping across the bedside table as it went. I sighed. I was so not in the mood to talk to anyone.

Rolling over intending to reject the call, I froze at the number.

I recognized that number, and my heart pounded as I put the receiver to my ear.

“Hello?” I answered throatily, my voice croaky from where I hadn’t used it for a while.

“Hello? This is Donna Way speaking? I received a number of calls from this number a couple of days ago? I was just wondering what it was regarding.”

I froze. I didn’t know how to say what I needed to say. I had to be careful here.

“Yeah, sorry to bother you, but it was quite an urgent matter,” I tried to sound formal, but I wasn’t very good at it. “It’s regarding your son, Gerard. You see-”

“My son?” She sounded bitter. “Look, if you’re looking to talk to Gerard I can give you a contact number myself, but I have nothing to do with any of his business. I suggest you give him a call yourself-”

I wanted to snap at her, but I kept myself calm. She had had his number all along, and so had clearly been deliberately ignoring his calls. “Well, only thing is, the subject matter kind of concerns you. It’s something that I really think his parents should know about, and otherwise I would have called Gerard, but you see, I need to talk to you personally, if you wouldn’t mind.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Actually, I would mind. I haven’t had contact with Gerard for a while now, and unless the issue is absolutely important, and I mean, life and death important, I don’t wish to discuss it. In fact, even if it were life and death, I’m still not sure I’d want to know, so thank you for your time but I’m really not interested-”

“You should be,” I snapped, finally loosing it. “I don’t know what your problem is, or what Gerard may have done to make you be so uncaring towards him, but he’s your son, and this is life and death actually, so maybe you should drop the attitude and listen to what I have to say.”

There was a long pause and silence as I tried my hardest to keep my voice level. I didn’t want to attract Mikey or Gerard’s attention.

“Life and death? I hope this isn’t some prank call,” she replied heavily. “What is it? Just give it to me straight.”

“I don’t think I should… I mean, over the phone-”

“Who are you anyway? How do I know I can trust you? How did you get my number?”

“I- I’m…” I hesitated, not knowing if exposing myself as Gerard’s boyfriend was safe territory. I paused for a second and made a snap decision. The truth would be best, surely. “I’m Gerard’s boyfriend.”

There was another agonizing pause. My stomach dropped. Wrong move.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you. I don’t know what you’re playing at but Gerard knows we don’t accept his lifestyle. Whatever news you have, I don’t want to hear it.” Her tone was so icy it cut through me, I felt completely hopeless as I heard her slam the phone down.

At that moment, Gerard walked in, accompanied by Mikey.

Gerard was still wrapped in his blanket, his skinny hands wrapped around himself. Mikey’s arm rest across him brother’s bony shoulders, his eyes watching him carefully as if he might break at any moment.

“Are you okay?” Mikey asked, his eyes on my shaking hand holding my cell.

I gulped, blinking back tears. I was so angry, and so upset that I had ruined my only chance to tell Gerard’s parents what they needed to know. I was upset with myself for having tried even contacting them in the first place, when they were clearly just a pair of homophobic, disrespectful, horrible human beings. How could you be so cold to your own son based on his sexuality? How did his sexuality effect them in any way, shape or form?

“Frank,” Mikey repeated, shaking me from my trance, his hands on my shoulders. “Seriously, what’s up?”

I glanced at Gerard guiltily, hating myself.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I cooed, shaking my head. “I just wanted to tell them. I thought they’d care.”

“Who?” Gerard asked weakly, sitting down on our bed with difficulty. He eyes widened as he put two and two together. “My parents? Frank, I told you not to involve them, I told you they wouldn’t care-”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. I- I just can’t believe they’d be so… you deserve better than that.”

“They’re dicks,” Mikey spat, sitting down gently next to his brother, always terrified of hurting him. “The second Gerard came out to them, they threw him out. Disowned him, and then disowned me for defending him.”

“That’s awful,” I croaked, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved, I should have left it, Gerard I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” he smiled weakly, his eyes still sad. “Any normal parents would care if their son was dying. You just wanted to make things right. Thank you for trying, Frank.”

“Did you even break the news to them?” Mikey asked, his eyes focused on something I couldn’t see.
“Uh, no. She was all ears until I mentioned who I was to Gerard. I’m sorry, I should have lied.”
Gerard shrugged, his eyes growing heavy. “I just want to sleep. Mikey, can you grab me another pillow?”

“Sure,” Mikey nodded, a small smile forced onto his lips. I could always tell when it was forced. We shared our usual glance of concern as Mikey left the room.

Gerard laid down, his eyes shut.

“Just sleep, baby,” I cooed, stroking his hair. “Forget about it, okay? You don’t need them. You have people who love you and accept you for who you are right here. That’s all that matters.”
He nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Goodnight, Frankie.” He murmured, his breathing becoming shallow.

“Goodnight, Gerard.”