Gerard Way Is My Dad, and Now I'm A Mom

I got sent to a therapist who wanted me to talk out all my feelings. Outside I acted as if the whole thing was a load of bullshit but in my mind I was grateful for it. I was only doing this for my dad, though. If it weren’t for him I would have never considered getting myself help. It wasn’t just because I love him the most out of everyone in the world or anything but it was because he understood the need of assistance. Frank never got himself help, why should have I gotten myself help? Sure he seems to be okay, but it’s never for sure. But my dad, Gerard Arthur Way, he got himself help for his problem with our support and look where he is now. He hasn’t drank in months. No one else would understand but him, my father.

“Helena can you tell me something?” My therapist, Maria Brown, asked, with her legs crossed in her normal fashion. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a My Chemical Romance tee-shirt, she wasn’t too much older than me, ten years at the most, but she was good. I could definitely trust her. She made me feel good. She talked to me as if she were my friend, not someone we had hired.

“Sure,” I stated, scanning over the room with my eyes. It was just my third time in the little room where I had conversations with Maria about lots of things. My life.

“How has Gerard Way being your dad affected you? Do you think it’s…positive or negative?” She questioned, staring at me with her bright eyes. She sat up straighter and made her broad shoulders roll back. She always did this when she was asking me an important, serious question. I inhaled and exhaled, deeply.

“I…I think about that a lot, to be honest. But, I’m not sure about anything. I mean, if I didn’t know he was my dad I would never have had my kids. I would have never fallen in love with Frank the way I am now. I have no idea where I would be if it weren’t for him. I would be stuck with my mom still and…that would suck,” I answered, beginning to get curious myself. Where would I be if I hadn’t gone to that concert with Brik that day? God, I probably would have been married to Brik or something. Oh Jesus. “I think…it’s positive. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t have to endure stuff that I wouldn’t normally endure if I wasn’t his daughter.”

“I’m glad you don’t look at things always pessimistically. That’s a good quality,” Maria replied, nodding her head observantly. “What about your mom? What was she like?” I felt my heart drop, thinking about my old house, my old life, my old mind. I knew that I would have to dig deep in my heart when I started this whole process but I hadn’t even thought of my mom. I hadn’t though of any of this, not my past.

“She was the biggest bitch ever. She was moody as fuck. She hated anything I liked. She would come in my room at night and rip up my posters. She would leave for long periods at a time. She hated my boyfriend…but he turned out to be a big douche bag anyway. I don’t know what to say about her to be honest. She even had the nerve to come back here and ask to live in my house with her stupid boyfriend. I can truthfully say I’ve never hated someone so much in my life. Sometimes I just wish I could forget about her but that is in no way possible because how can you just forget the person who is responsible for your birth?” I ranted on, pushing my bangs back every so often. The therapist in front of me nodded in sync with my words, sketching something down on a sheet of paper. I tried to figure out what she was thinking but even that was beyond me. I felt helpless all of a sudden, wanting to tuck my feelings back into my heart and command Maria to forget anything I’ve ever told her. Even my name.

“She’s obviously caused you a bit of pain, hasn’t she?” Mrs. Brown stated, not taking her eyes off of me. I nodded with despair in each of my tiny movements. Maria began to think, she had her thinking stance going – She was starting to get a little predictable, I decided I didn’t want to be like that…maybe all therapists were like this, though – and finally said, “What about Frank? Tell me about Frank, good or bad things. I don’t care. Both, if you please.” I finally got my words back, I could talk about Frank. He was something very familiar to me, something I couldn’t forget.

“He’s got the prettiest brown eyes and is the perfect height for me. Sometimes I think he’s skinnier than I am. He likes to dye his hair frequently but not as much lately. His favorite color is red and his secret dream is to get red contacts. Whenever he’s mad he turns beet red and his veins poke out of his arm. Sometimes I wonder if he just likes to get mad so he’ll turn red, since it’s his all-time favorite color. He can be so sweet, so gentle and loving. He gets so excited whenever one of kids does something new or adorable. His favorite My Chemical Romance song is Give ‘Em Hell, Kid. He and my dad dated when I was a baby, before I knew anything. He’s very strong though he doesn’t look like it. It makes me very scared when he’s mad…he’s done some…not so nice things, like I told you before. But I love him…a lot. I love him more than anything,” I breathed, looking out the window at the large buildings surrounding the smaller one we were in. Maria nodded again and I played with the chewy piece of blue gum in mouth, tracing around the edges with my tongue. I wanted her to speak, comment on my observations of Frank, the man I loved.

“What’s your favorite My Chemical Romance song, Helena?” She asked, leaning towards me. I raised my eyebrows at the randomness of the question. Either she was one obsessed fan or had an idea up her sleeve.

“Bury Me In Black but…I do like Helena quite a lot too, to be honest,” I replied, sending a bit of a questioning look her way. What the hell was she talking about? I wanted to ask why she was asking me this but I restrained my curiosities to a minimum. “Not just because of my name but…I guess that does play a part of it.”

“The mind works in odd ways,” Maria mumbled, mysteriously.

“Uh…yeah,” I nodded, slowly.

“Do you know what your dad’s favorite My Chemical Romance song is?” She interrogated, blankly staring out the window like I was just minutes before. I thought for a moment, recalling my father’s exact words to MTV when they found out he had a secret daughter, a.k.a. me, “Helena has always mean the most to me and I guess you know why now. It’s definitely my favorite, if I had to choose.”

“Yeah, Helena is. Why?” I asked, unable to resist it any longer. Maria clicked her tongue and then her large ballpoint pen, gazing down at my black flats and then up at my black hair.

“That means he loves you more than anyone in the world,” She stated, awkwardly rubbing the side of her foot that was extended in the air from the top of her bony right knee. “You’re lucky to have a dad like that.”

“Well I could have told you that!” I exclaimed.