Love Is for the Sane

How the hell were you selfish? You went to take care of a mentally unwell ex-girlfriend. And I…I could barely accept that. You made the decision, and that made you strong.

“But you went with her. You did it anyways, and it means that you’re good. It means you’re kind and concerned and just as wonderful as I thought.”

It was weird, talking about it. I already accepted it, but no one talked about it. Not even when Gerard was gone. It was as if everyone was afraid I would blow up, or break down if they reminded me. But I wasn’t running away from it. Everyone else was.

He was crying now. He was afraid, my beautiful, kind love. Yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find what he was afraid of.

“I did it for you. Every single thing was for you. When she screamed at me, I held on for you. When I found her on the floor, overdosed on her drugs, I called the ambulance for you. Because it was what you would have wanted. And disappointing you was the worst thing I could do. So I did it for you.”

“That…that doesn’t make any fucking sense! You had to care about her a little! Or else you wouldn’t have done it!”

He frowned and shook his head, “No. I don’t make sense. I did it all for you, because I want you to love me, to accept me. I want you to be alright all the time. I want you to be safe.”

“Then how the fuck does that help me? If for some unknown reason, you only did it for me, how was it that it helped me?” I was hissing out the words, which were venom-filled noise and violent body language. I was so angry, yet so sad. Hot tears pricked my eyes.

“You would have done it. I could see it. You fucking ran away when I accepted the relationship! You didn’t say no…so I thought it was a yes. And that hurt me so much, but it was what I thought you wanted, god dammit!”

I shook my head, and my ears started to ring. I was so confused, and hurt…

“It’s just…I fucking don’t know anymore, Gerard! I wanted to help her, alright? And I thought you did too, so I did what I felt was the right thing. And now, what do I fucking get for it?! I get my best friends falling apart because of us. I lose my boyfriend, and we fucking never talk to each other for the time you’re with her!

“I’m just so tired of never spending time with you. That was all I needed to get by, and yet you still didn’t talk to me for one single day. I’m sick of blaming myself. It’s not just your fault, but I refuse to take anymore responsibility for your childishness! It is not my fault we didn’t speak, it’s not just my fault things are so awkward now.”

He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes begging me to understand, “I never blamed you. Because it’s not your goddamn fault! It’s mine. You’re too…too kind; too perfect…you wouldn’t hurt anyone. It’s not your fault at all.”

I blew up, gripping his shirt, shaking his body, forcing him to listen for once.

“That is exactly what I’m fucking talking about! It’s not just your fault. It’s both of our faults. I love you so much, but you – we – need to stop isolating ourselves from each other. I am not perfect. I’m just as selfish as you are, and I am just as much at fault as you are. The things wrong with you and the things right are what make me love you, and I hope that they’re the reasons why you love me too.”

Silence came by like a breeze, calming us, cooling us until we regained our normality. Or what we would call ‘normal.’ Gerard’s eyes were closed, and I could see my words floating in his head, churning in his thoughts, hopefully causing him to realize that he didn’t need to be blamed for everything, and neither did I.

Because we could be at blame together.