Stay With Me

I knocked on the door, and waited for a reply. The door opened, and Gerard stood in front of me in a pair of black sweats.

“Taylor, I am so sorry…”I put my hand up. I didn’t want to listen to his apologies. I looked at him for a minute, noting the scars that covered his chest. “Come in.” I stepped inside, and he shut the door behind me. I turned to face him. I saw an x-shaped scar over his heart. He stepped forward, and I put my hand up to keep from touching me. He stepped closer and my hand rested against his chest. I could feel his heart beat through my palm. I traced the scar with my finger. I moved from scar to scar, tracing them softly with my fingertips. I followed each arm, until I came to a fresh cut on his left forearm.

“Oh, Gerard…”I whispered. I looked up and saw him staring at me.

“You’re not scared…?” He asked quietly. I shook my head.

“I’ve seen this before…”I thought of how bad Mikey was when I finally found out.

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment. I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Gerard…”I said softly as a tear fell. He held onto me tightly.

“I know. I need help,” he admitted, whether it was to me or himself I couldn’t tell. That was what I’d been waiting for. The first step: Admitting that you have a problem, and that you need help. I could actually begin trying to help him. I pulled away, and looked up at him.

“I can try…”I told him. He just stared at me curiously for a minute.

“I would appreciate that, very much.” I nodded slightly.

“If you ever feel like hurting yourself, don’t. No cutting, no pills, none of that. Call me, and tell me what’s going on. If you can’t get a hold of me, write it down in a book.”

“Okay. I will.”

“Promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.” I sighed and wiped away a tear. He pulled me close to him and rested his chin on the top of my head. “You know, you are the first person to have seen this, and not only did you not totally freak out, but you let me know that you’d be there for me.”

“That’s where people mess up. They freak out, call you crazy, and make you feel worse.” He looked down at me.

“Sounds like you’ve had experience…”I pulled up my sleeves, revealing fading scars.

“I have.” He grabbed my hand, and traced the hundreds of little scars, before seeing the worst. I watched as he traced it gingerly. “That’s when I quit. That one almost killed me. It hit an artery, cut through several veins, through the muscle to the bone.” He pulled my sleeves down and pulled me to him again, holding me tightly.

“I’m glad it didn’t. Because I need you.” I put my arms around him.

“I know…”

“I fucked up. I am fucked up. And I really need help. And if you are willing to help me, then I would be stupid not to accept that.”

“I promise I’ll do everything I can to help you, as long as you promise me to try to get better.”

“I promise.”