You Mean More to Me Than Words Could Ever Say

I was sitting on my bed, staring out the window watching people go about their everyday lives. As I did so, my fingernails dug into my stomach. I felt sick knowing what happened with Gerard and I. It was the only thing on my mind, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

To think, that just a few days ago we we're closer than ever, connecting on mental (and physical) levels. And now, he blew up on me, just like the first time I met him. Any fool could see that Gerard was hurting himself. Whether he's biting at his skin, or picking it to relieve stress, it's obvious that he is bringing it upon himself. What bothers me, is after I opened up to him, which was a big step, (Even if I didn't bring up how I like him, it was still hard to talk about my mother and father) he can't be honest with me.

I feel like he can't trust me, and it infuriated the hell out of me. Am I not good enough? Do I lack certain qualities and characteristics? I decided to call Mikey, and see if I can get any information. I took out my cell and dialed his number, taking a deep breath. After a few rings he answered, in his usual chirped and happy voice.

"Hey Frankie!"

"Hey Mikes." I responded, forcing a bit of enthusiam into my voice. He seemed to notice.

"Is something up?" I closed my eyes, and relaxed myself. I didn't know how Mikey would take what I was about to say.

"Actually... yeah, I'm worried about Gerard." I told him earnestly.

"What do you mean? He's fine!" He chirped, and I could hear the humor in his voice. I sort of regretted calling. Mikey may not accept what I'm about to tell him.

"Mikey... he's hurting himself." I waited for an answer, but didn't receive one.

"There's scabs all over his fingers, and he got defensive when I asked about them." I suddenly felt like a dick, maybe I should be minding my own business.

"Oh! Frank, he doesn't do that to hurt himself. He just does it to do it. He has CSP. Compulsive skin picking disorder. It's not like...he's like, trying to hurt himself intentionally. It's a habit like biting your nails, just different."

I still was feeling skeptical.

"But he got all defensive." I told him flatly.

"He was probably embarrased and didn't want to talk about it. Honestly Frank-"

"But..." I interjected.

"Frank, relax, he's done it before, and he'll do it again. It's just a habit." I was determined for an answer. There had to be some other reason other than being a 'habit'.

"When did he first start?" I asked. Mikey was quiet for a moment, before sighing heavily.

"You really wont let this go will you? Okay...I'd say about the time our mother passed away, I remember because the next week after we received the news, I had noticed his hand. Dad had taken him to the doctors to make sure he didn't get an infection or anything, and they had referred to it as CSP, saying it's no big deal and lot's of kids do it."

I almost screamed in frustration at how stupid Mikey was being. Obviously, Gerard using it as a coping mechanism. Once with his mothers passing, maybe some other times, and now with god knows what.

"Mikey, don't you see? He uses it as a coping mechanism. Maybe he's not intentionally hurting himself, but he is none the less. Has it been awhile since he's done this?"
Mikey sighed out again, annoyed with my nosiness.

"It's been a few years."

"Okay, so listen Mikey. People often develope habits such as biting nails, or in this case picking their skin, as a way to relieve stress. That's how habits like this normally develope. So, considering the fact it's been a few years, that must mean something recently happened to stress him out, to the point where he needed a way to cope. And so he started up his 'CSP' as you call it. However, disorders usally are constant, and don't just stop and come back every now and then. That's why I feel like this isn't CSP. If it was he would've been doing it continuously throughout his life, not just when something bad happens." I figured I got across what I was trying to put out, as I awaited his reply.

He remained silent, and I started to get pissed off. I kept myself calm and patient however.

"Mikes, lemme ask you this. Do you remember what happened a few years ago to bring on the picking again?"

"No...but when I think about it, I remember he was very distant during that time. And not his usually self....God, Frank, you're right. Somethings wrong. Because he's seemed very out of it lately...my god, I'm so blind.." I was relieved to see I was breaking through to him.

"Mikey, could it be something to do with Ryder?"

"Nah." He answered immediately.
I waited for him to elaborate on that answer, but when he didn't, I realised I'd have to pry it out of him.

"Why not?"

"Because Ryder and him have been better than ever." I was hurt at this. I was almost mad, because I thought Mikey knew I liked him, then I remembered I told him I only wanted to be sexual with Gerard. So he didn't know he was hurting me right now. I suddenly wasn't in the mood to talk anymore.

"Alright, well, we'll figure it out eventually." I could almost hear him nod his head solemnly.

"Yeah, I'll seeya Frank."

"Bye Mikes." I clicked end, realizing I had a tight feeling in my throat and tears prickling in my eyes. Before I knew it, I was crying, hard and heavily. I don't know whay it came on so fast, but I figured it was a mix of jealously and frustration, along with the cold hard fact that Gerard liked Ryder and not me. He couldn't even trust me...