Status: In process.

Three Words You Never Want to Hear

Perhaps It Was Fate, Perhaps It Wasn't

Until that moment, I had never truly thought about the way that I would die.

Sure, what with Gerard’s diagnosis, I had most certainly thought about death, multiple times, but I hadn't given any actual thought into how I would actually die someday. I had thought about how meaningless life seemed in the face of death, and I had thought about whether there could be anything after all of this, and if Gerard was somewhere else now, looking down at me and laughing at how ridiculous I was being, knowing that life actually held a much deeper meaning than any of us could ever imagine.

Of course, this was not what I believed, after much thought. I knew that thinking that way was just a way for people to cope with the harsh reality of death. I hated to admit it, but I knew that there was nothing after this life. There was no ‘better place’ that Gerard was living in. He was gone. It killed inside, knowing that Gerard’s existence now meant virtually nothing, that he was just a memory in other’s mind’s, minds that would someday be gone too, and so we would all just be gone. A negative way of thinking, but how else do you expect someone to think after loosing the love of their life?

I had always seen other people in my life deal with death in a way that made it look almost easy. They’d write a status on a social network with a picture of their loved one, writing a message about what an inspirational person that person had been to them, and how that loved one was now in a better place, looking down at them as an angel, and that someday they would meet again. I would always look at these posts and shake my head, feeling sorry for them, knowing that they were surely just kidding themselves to make it through the grief. I know it’s harsh to say, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but wonder how they possibly ever managed to move on, or how they accepted that heaven existed without a single shred of proof. Death is unfair, cruel, and quite honestly, every time I saw someone loose someone they loved, I’d have to stop myself from spiralling into an existential crisis, because what’s the point in having an existential crisis in the first place, if your existence is meaningless?

Anyway, back to the point. I had never truly thought about how I would die, how painful it would be, how fast it would be, or if it would be the easiest thing I’d ever have to do. I thought that would be a cruel irony, humans spending most of their lives worrying about death, only to have death come around and it be the simplest, easiest thing they’ve ever had to face. Maybe it was like most things in life, where you over stress and worry about it, and then when the time comes and it’s over, you’re like; “Wow, I wish someone had told me beforehand not to worry about that. That wasn't as bad as I thought!” Of course, I guess the circumstance of your death kind of makes a difference. Some might pass peacefully, and others in cruel, painful ways. I knew that if I were to go now, I wanted it to be quick, and as painless as possible.

But does it matter how much pain we’re in at the end of our lives? If we aren't going to remember that pain once it’s over, should we really worry about it? But then again, that again brings about the question of, what is the point of living, if we won’t remember it someday?

Everything always seemed to come back to an existential crisis with me, and I wondered if other people thought about these things in as much detail as I did. I wondered how people went about their daily lives, laughing, joking, loving, without so much as questioning their own existence? Thinking about the universe made my mind swirl. How did we get here? How did it all begin? Who were the first human beings? (Other than Adam and Eve, since I personally didn't buy into the whole idea.) If Adam and Eve were just made up characters, who made them up? Who wrote the Bible, and why? If God does exist why create us in the first place, if we are all just waiting for the day of judgement? What’s the point?

I could raise a million questions that I’m sure many have asked before me, and never get an answer. I guess the only real way to know is to experience death first hand, which so many are so afraid to do.

I guess my advice to others would be simple. Don't dive too deep into your own mind. You’ll get lost, and almost convince yourself that you don't exist, because let’s be real, if we vanish back into nothingness after life, do we really exist at all?

Not me. I was about to have all the answers I needed. If I had to face death someday, why not be now, when I was so desperately sad and alone? Why not end my misery, and trade up for some peace and quiet? And if an after life did exist? Great! I’d be reunited with Gerard. My heart ached at the thought, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the pain hit. Deep down, I knew why I was doing this. I didn't think I would see him again. I just wanted the pain to stop.

My phone buzzed again, Mikey’s name flashing next to me. I pushed away the feelings of guilt that threatened to foil my plan. Mikey would be okay. I didn't mean much to him anyway. I was probably just a constant reminder of his brother, and honestly, every time he looked at me I wondered how he was able to. I stole most of the time Gerard had had left on this earth that he could have been spending with Mikey. He probably envied me.

My hands were shaking against the steering wheel. Why was I finding it so hard to do this? I knew what I needed to do, but my pesky human emotions were ruining my plans. My human impulse to survive was making itself known, but I knew that all I wanted was for the pain to stop. I couldn't imagine a day in the future, no matter how far away, where I would have gotten over Gerard’s death. Like those statuses that I’d see online, I wondered how these people seemingly moved on so quickly, and how they managed to genuinely keep on living after the death of a loved one. The concept seemed impossible to me. I couldn’t imagine my future now, I couldn't even picture myself living into next week.

I was okay with the thought. Unlike Gerard, I wasn't afraid of what happens after death. For me, it was black and white. I would be at peace, just gone. Like when you sleep, and wake up in the morning and seemingly no time has passed. It was easy. So much easier than being bombarded with memories of someone that no longer existed.

I’m trying to convey to you reading this, just how much pain I was in when I made the decision to end my life. If you’ve ever been in this position, you’ll understand. You don't think about the pain too much, you just want a quick and easy way out. You don't consider other people’s reactions or feelings when you’re gone, and if you do, you usually believe that they’ll move on with their lives quite quickly, and usually, or so it seems to me, they do. But if that were true, then I wouldn't be in the position I had put myself in in the first place, because I would have believed I could move on from Gerard.

The buzzing began again, so I decided to turn off my cell completely. I didn't need any distractions.

You have to understand just how deeply I loved Gerard Arthur Way.

I know that I fell for him quickly, and so it may be hard for some to understand my attachment. But if you’ve read my story thus far, or have ever been in love yourself, you’ll understand that when you love someone wholeheartedly, you would put them above yourself. His death was out of my control, and that’s the worst part. Because if I could, I would have taken his place. Maybe that would have been selfish, because then I wouldn't have been in that car in that very moment, having to pluck up the courage to kill myself. Gerard had no choice in the matter, nature, or disease, whichever way you choose to see it, took his life, and so in that sense it was easier for him.

He didn't have to deal with surviver’s guilt. He didn't have to miss someone that he could never speak to again. He wasn't burdened with memories or human emotion. I half hoped he wasn't feeling anything at all right now, because I wouldn't wish this kind of pain on anyone. If he was at peace, then I was happy for him.

That’s exactly what I needed. Peace.

It was then, in the isolation of my car, that I began to think about what Gerard would think of my decision.

If my life were a movie, this would be the part where a ghostly Gerard would appear next to me, and beg me not to take my life. My life wasn't a movie however, and all that greeted me was silence and my own thoughts.

I thought about what he would say if he were next to me. I swallowed my pain and allowed myself to picture him, closing my eyes and resting my head against my car seat.

At first, all I could picture was the image of Gerard laying on his hospital bed, weak, fragile, and dying. It took everything I had to get rid of that image, the sight of the love of my life fighting for his life and failing was too much for me to handle. I thought about the good times we had shared together, trying to forget that he was gone in doing so. Even the good times brought pain, but if I could convince myself for a second that he wasn't gone, maybe I could enjoy them.

“Gerard,” I breathed, the image I had created become almost life like in front of me, despite the fact that my eyes in reality were still closed, and this was just a figment of my imagination. I pushed the thought away. If these were my last moments, why not allow myself to live a fantasy?

He grinned, concern showing in his eyes as he did so. “Told you I’d see you again someday.”

“I miss you so much,” I breathed, resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss the hell out of him. To feel his skin again…

“I miss you too baby, more than you could ever know,” his hand brushed against my face, yet no feeling came with it. I ignored that, and sunk into it.

“Please just tell me that you’re okay,” I begged, my voice breaking.

“I’m fine, baby,” he cooed, still smirking. “Easiest thing I’ve ever done, I promise you. Don't feel guilty for something that wasn't your fault.”

“I just wanted to help you, but I couldn’t.”

“I know,” he withdrew his hand, his smile wavering slightly. “But you did help, Frank. You gave me the goodbye I wanted. When I came looking for you, I wanted to reconnect, but I never imagined that we would fall head over heels in love.”

“I love you so much, Gerard,” I cried, tears leaking from my closed eyelids.

“I love you too.”

“I can’t live without you,” I whimpered.

“I know. And I can’t live without you. Good thing I’m not living.”

“Are you joking right now?” I asked in disbelief.

“Hey, this is your imagination, buddy.”

“Don’t,” I shook my head. “I want this to be real.”

“But it isn’t. I’m gone, Frank. You need to move on.”

“I can’t,” I whispered, reaching out, as if I could actually grab his hand. “I will never be able to move on from this.”

“So you think that killing yourself is the answer?” He asked skeptically, tilted his head to the side. “Really?”

Anger welled up inside of me. He had no idea of what I had to deal with. He had it easy.

“Yeah, because I don’t want to be here anymore!” I yelled, slamming my fists against the wheel. “I want the pain to stop, make it stop, please!”

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I opened my eyes, inhaling suddenly as if waking up from a nightmare. Gerard was no where in sight, and my fantasy had been broken. My hands shook even harder, so hard that I felt as if my whole body were moving.

I had pulled up onto the side of a busy highway. I hadn't really thought about how I was going to kill myself exactly, but I had known that I was in no fit state to be driving. I wasn't sure if I wanted to die in a car crash, that seemed a little too painful for me. I knew that the pain shouldn't matter, because honestly I couldn't think of anything worse than the emotional pain I was in, but the human instinct in me refused to allow my body to endure such torture. I listed ways in my mind that I could end it as quickly as possible, but every single way scared me. It shouldn't have, considering I wanted it so bad.

“Why am I such a wimp?” I screamed, slamming my fist through the window.

A sharp stabbing pain soared through my arm and into my shoulder, causing me to yell in pain. I withdrew my hand, glass shattered all over my lap and embedded in my knuckles. I grasped at my wrist, breathing heavily, staring at the blood as it splattered onto my shirt. I felt a rush of pleasure as I looked at it. Yes. This is what I needed.

Without thinking, I took a piece of glass from my lap, and with my good hand, I dragged it against the skin on the back of my injured arm. I winced as I watched the new wound open, but smiled as the sting hit me. I deserved this. Maybe I’d bleed out while I was at it.

“Oh my god!”

I looked up, confused.

“Are you okay?!”

Great. I felt a wave of sadness as I realised that my plan had been ruined.

A young girl, probably around the age of eighteen, stood outside of my car window, staring in horror at the mess I had made. Her mouth agape and her blonde long hair clutched in her hands as she tried to make sense of what she had walked up to.

“I- please go.”

“No, you’re hurt,” she cried, pointing at my hand, as if I couldn't see it myself.
“Please, I’m fine, get back to your car.”

I could see that she had parked her car directly behind mine, the lights still on, projecting into the front of my car. I wondered how I hadn't noticed her pull up behind me, but I guessed I had been a little caught up in the moment to pay attention to anyone else. I silently cursed myself for picking such a public place for my break down. Of course someone was bound to intervene.

“Please, let me help you, you’re hurt,” she sounded genuinely concerned for me, her silky voice making my skin tickle slightly, it was as if I could feel the warmth just from her caring nature.

I moved away as she attempted to reach out for my arm. “You n-need to get back to your car.”

She shook her head, opening the door. “Look, I don’t know what’s happened here, but you look like you’re in pain. I just want to help.”

“I don’t want help,” I replied, although I wasn't sure it that were true. The pain was getting worse, and I could feel the blood running through my jeans.

She pulled out her cell phone, frowning. “I’m gonna call 911.”

“No!” I made to grab her phone, and she stepped backwards, stunned. “I-I’m sorry. I just- I don't want an ambulance.”

She looked from me to her phone, clearly debating whether to sneakily call them from afar, or whether to listen to me and hang up.

“If I don’t call them, will you at least tell me your name?”

“Frank,” I replied automatically, happy to see her place her phone in her back pocket.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

I racked my brains for ideas. It had to believable. I could feel her waiting, but I couldn't think of any way to explain it. I decided that I might as well tell her the truth, maybe then she’d get scared and leave me alone to bleed out in peace.

“I just lost my boyfriend to cancer,” I croaked, looking away. I didn't want to see the pity on her face.

“Oh,” I heard her mutter, clearly she was lost for words.

“I came out here for a drive… and then I got upset and decided I wanted to kill myself.”

Silence. I hoped she had turned around and fled.

“Frank, I am so sorry.” She sounded genuine, but I had heard this a thousand times already. “Really, I am. I lost my mom two years ago.”

I turned to face her again, taken off guard. “You did?”

She nodded, frowning. “I get how you feel. But killing yourself is not the answer.”

“How do you get over it?” I asked, leaning forward in interest. I needed to know if there was a way to keep living without the pain.

She sighed. “You don't really get over it. You just learn to accept it and move on.”

“But how do you move on? I don't get it.”

“You accept that it was out of your control. You feel grateful that the person you lost was even born into this world in the first place, and that they got to live.”

“That doesn't feel like enough to me,” I slumped back into my seat.

“You need to find the positives to your situation, no matter how much negativity you feel,” she sat down next to me on the pavement by my door. “You need to try and find a balance.”

“So tell me, what are the positives to loosing someone you love to cancer?” I asked, almost sarcastically. I couldn't bring myself to be rude to this girl for some reason.

“There aren't any.”

“But you just said-”

“-there aren't any positives to loosing them. But there are positives to their lives. They got to live, no matter how long it was. They had the chance to see the world, to meet everyone that they loved. They got to know what it is to be alive.”

“But then they died.”

“Don’t we all? Yeah, they died. But they also lived. I’m willing to bet you and your boyfriend had an amazing last few months together. And you got to say goodbye?”

“I was with him when it happened.”

“See? Imagine if you hadn't been able to say goodbye. If he’d just died and you hadn't been there to help him leave this world.”

I shuddered at the thought. I probably would have killed myself then and there.

“Do you see what I’m getting at? You were so lucky to get to help him through that, Frank. Some people have to live the rest of their lives wondering what their loved one had to go through dying alone. Some people would have killed to have been in your position. Sure, you didn't want your boyfriend to die, but since it couldn't be helped, the next best thing is that you were there to be the last face that he ever saw.”

I could feel the fresh tears rolling down my cheeks, my nose beginning to run. I wiped my face on my bloody sleeve, probably steering blood over myself.

“I just miss him so much.”

“I know. But you’ll learn to move on. I promise. It doesn't seem like it now, but you will.”

I sniffed. “What are you, my guardian angel?”

She laughed. “Something like that. Just know that it’s not worth ending your own life over. Why waste your chance to live because your boyfriend’s chance was taken away? Don't let death win again.”

“It’ll come eventually.”

“Let it. And when it does, show the same strength your boyfriend showed. It’s only natural after all, just like birth. Why worry about something so natural?”
I paused, chewing over her words. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It isn't easy, I won’t lie to you. But it will get easier the older you get.”

“I wanted to grow old with him.”

“You still will. He’ll always be with you, in your memories.”

“Memories fade with time.”

“Wow, you really don't want to be happy, do you?” Her tone wasn't unfriendly, it was more soothing than anything. “You’ll always remember him, no matter how faded your memories become. The way I see it, you were born, so you may as well see it out until the bitter end, no matter when that is. But don't make that end come sooner than it’s meant to. Just live.”

I wiped my face again, suddenly aware of how hideous I must look. “It’s just hard to picture a future without him.”

“I know. But there is one. Remember that.”

The sound of sirens interrupted us, and bright lights blinded us as an ambulance pulled over behind her car.

“You called them?” I asked, feeling betrayed.

“No, but I’m guessing someone else did. We aren't the only ones on the highway you know.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, watching the paramedics climbing out of their van. “What’s your name?”

“Valerie,” she smiled, patting my non-injured hand. “And you’re welcome.”

“W-would you- I mean, I know it’s a little weird to ask but, I don't wanna go to the hospital alone-”

“I’d gladly accompany you,” she grinned, standing up to let the paramedics get through to me.

I smiled. The first genuine smile in months.