The Dream

Morning came sooner than I had hoped. I was awakened by the sound of rain hitting our roof, and Frank’s arms wrapped around my waist. I shut my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. All I heard was Frank's slow breathing beside me, telling me that he was still sound asleep. I rolled over to face him, and studied his face. He looked so peaceful when he slept, with the ghost of a smile etched across his features. I smiled when I looked into the face of the man I loved. I gasped my mind wandered to the dream I had experienced last night. The sights and the sounds, the feelings, they had all seemed so real. I could have sworn it was happening in real life. My heart skipped a beat as I thought it all over. Could this be the last time I woke up in his arms? I realized the direness of situation as I looked again at his sleeping face. Every breath he took made my heart skip a beat. The smile that I had once worn while looking at Frank fell away from my face as I also remembered what I had to do. Somehow, I had to convince Frank to stay home from work today.

I decided I needed a cigarette while I tried to figure out my plan of action. Very slowly, I turned the other way, towards the edge of the bed, and tried to make my way out without waking Frank. I needed some time alone before I could gather the courage to confront him.

Slowly placing my feet on the cold wooden floors, I gradually took my weight off the bed, luckily not making a sound. Frank was still fast asleep. I groped in the darkness on the floor searching for a pair of pants. I found a pair of old sweatpants and slipped them on quietly. Then, I quickly walked out of the room, avoiding all the places in the floor that creaked. I made it safely out of the bedroom and shut the door behind me.

The clock on the wall in our living room told me that it was only 6:30 in the morning, and Frank usually woke up at 7, which left me with plenty of time to think of a plan.

I walked into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, grabbed my cigarettes, and walked out of the apartment door. I didn't really want to go far, so I took a seat to the left of the door, to think.

In the dream, Frank and I were arguing about him staying home from work. That was what I had to avoid. Frank has never been the type to argue about much, so I figured that the odds were in my favor.

My mind drifted as I remembered our first argument. It was when we first got together, and he argued with me about going to meet my parents and Mikey. I couldn’t understand what the big deal was… I mean it was just mom and dad and Mikey. He’d put up a good fight, even tried to play the breakup card, but eventually he just gave in and went with me. We ate pizza and watched movies with Mikey and my parents. He had a great time and my family loved him.

As my cigarette got closer to the filter I remembered what I was out here for in the first place. Frank. I can't lose him. Would it be easiest to just tell him the truth? No. That's not even an option. He wouldn’t believe me and he would think I'm insane. More insane than he already thinks I am. I sighed heavily and turned to look at the wall beside me: The scratches and dents on the wall, cigarette burns on the ground and smoke stains on the ceiling made it known to the world that this wasn’t the best place to live; but for Frank and me, it was the best we could have. We had each other, and that mattered more than anything in the world.

I decided I would tell Frank the truth. It's best he knows what’s really going on. Then at least I might have a greater chance of him staying home with me today.

I took a deep breath and walked through my front door again. I saw Frank with his back to me at the kitchen table, reading a magazine and sipping some of the coffee I made.

When he heard the door open, he turned around and gave me a huge smile. "Good morning!" he said cheerfully. "I was wondering where you went. I woke up and I couldn't find you. I took some of the coffee you made, I hope you don't mind…”

"No, not at all. That's fine. I actually wanted to ask you something..." I trailed off making it obvious that I was unsure of how to tell him.

Frank raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Yes?"

I cleared my throat to buy time. "Well, um...” My nerves were getting the best of me. I could feel tiny beads of sweat starting to form on my forehead. “Will you skip work and stay home with me today?" I said suddenly. So much for that.

Frank laughed and to my surprise, agreed. "Sure, why not? I haven't taken a day off in a long time."

After he said yes, I was so relieved that my chest literally sank and my shoulders collapsed. Frank, obviously noticing but not saying anything, stared at me expectantly. "So," he said, "what did you want to do today?"

Anything that doesn't involve leaving the house. "Want to watch some movies?" I tried on a fake smile; it was the perfect fit.

"Hell yes! Movie marathon! I'll pick one out." He ran for our extensive movie collection, forgetting all about his coffee and magazine.

I turned towards the fridge and grabbed two ice cold beers to start. It’s only 7:15, but who cares. We're going to be home all day.

As I walked into our living room Frank was already sitting on the couch waiting for me. "Dawn of the Dead," he declared. I nodded in approval, handed him a beer, and sat down next to him. Frank snuggled into my side and I kissed the top of his head, so happy that he was here by my side today.

Halfway through the third movie and four too many beers later, I started to feel a little buzzed. Frank on the other hand was already wasted. For all the alcohol he drinks, you'd think he would have a higher tolerance. I was amused listening to Frank's nearly incoherent drunk babble.

“Soooo I waz wunderin’, Geeeee,” his words were so slurred he sounded like a snake. “Do youuuu think weeee should….” He just stopped talking and started watching the movie again. It’s so cute; he knows when to shut up.

"Hey Frankie," I asked once he stopped talking. "Do you ever just wanna... run away? Go somewhere new and just start all over? No one knows your name and you don't have a job or anything; you're just living day by day. I think I'd like to try that."

Frank glanced up at me then, musing over my philosophical drunk babble. "Yeah, Gerard. I'd like that, too. But I don't want you to leave me. I kinda love you. A lot. And I mean that," he banged on his chest lightly, “from the heart.” He smiled up at me sheepishly and I kissed his cheek.

I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "We should run away together. Just you and me."

Frank hummed in approval and then whispered back, "okay," with a little giggle.

"Where would you want to go?" I asked him.

"New York City," he replied without hesitation. I was majorly confused by this.

"Why would you want to move there? It's just over the bridge! We could go there for a weekend stay or something."

"It's just where I always imagined us living together. I don't know why," he replied with a hint of anger in his voice.

"Then that's where we'll go. You and me. New York City. Tomorrow we can try and find a place."

His face lit up and he laughed a little as he spoke, "So you were being serious?"

"Of course I'm being serious, Frank. If you want to move to New York City then that's where we'll go. I love you so much and I would do anything for you. I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Frank had nothing to say to that and it confused me. He always had something to say. He grabbed his beer and chugged the rest of it and stared at the TV screen.

I stood up and tried to walk towards the kitchen to get more beer, but my knees were too shaky and I collapsed on the adjacent couch. I groaned and glanced at Frank hopefully, but he wouldn't even glance my way. What did I say? Did I say something to upset him? I ran through our conversation in my head once more and I couldn't recall anything that would have made him upset. Hopefully it would just blow over.

All of a sudden there was a huge clap of thunder that rattled the sunset stained windows and made me jump out of my seat. I stumbled towards our bedroom and just made it to my side of the bed before I collapsed again. The rain. Frankie. I can't let him get hurt. That damn dream. When did these dreams start? I couldn't even remember. I laid my eyes on an empty spiral notebook on my bedside table and opened it to the first page.

Running away with Frank tomorrow. I love him a lot. I'm a little drunk right now. The dream. Frankie can't leave because he will get hurt. I need him. Dawn of the Dead and seven beers later and I'm still in the same place I was yesterday.

I closed the notebook and rolled over. Next thing I know, I'm dreaming.

***

“Gerard,” he started. When he said my name, my breath almost caught in my throat. He has never been angry with me before. The tears stopped flowing now, only to be replaced with fear.

I couldn’t even look up at him. “Yes?” I asked, after he said nothing further.

“Why won’t you let me go to work?” He asked, with an edge to his voice. “You let me go any other day. Why is today different? I’m going to be late because of this,” he complained.

“You just have to trust me on this one,” I answered back, still refusing to make eye contact. I looked up a little and saw him playing with his hands, one of his nervous habits.

“I have to go,” Frank said sharply and went to stand up.

I reached for him, and pulled on his arm again. “Please. Stay.” I begged again.

“For God’s sakes, let me go, Gerard!” Frank shouted, catching me off guard. I dropped his arm like it burned me and finally met his eyes. I saw nothing in them. All the love, gone. Hate and anger filled them now. This was not the Frank I knew.

Frank grabbed his wallet and cigarettes off the counter and headed closer to the door. “No, no, no, no, no…” I started saying and shook my head, my eyes stinging. Frank took one glance back and said a simple, “Goodbye, Gerard.” It sounded so final. Is he leaving home? Wasn’t he just going to work? What did I do wrong?

Before he slammed the door, I said, “I love you, Frank,” just loud enough for him to hear.

He didn’t say anything back. How could he not say anything back? That was the part that really hurt. He was so angry with me; worse than he’d ever been. And all I could do was cry. I slid to the floor where I stood and put my head between my knees, my eyes letting out rivers of pain. I stayed that way for what felt like hours.

I sat back down on the couch and stared at the wall. All I could do was wait for him to return. After a while, it crossed my mind that Frank may never return. It was a possibility. There’s always a possibility.

The sounds of sirens filled my ears and my entire thought process stopped. My head is suddenly pounding and my mind is screaming for me to find Frank. I could see the red flashing lights poking in through the crack left open by our curtains. I jumped off the couch and tried to find my phone, which was probably hiding beneath all the junk on our bedroom floor.

I found it underneath Frank’s dirty dress shirt from two days ago. I flipped it open and pressed the “End” key, hands shaking, willing it to turn on faster.

“Damn piece of shit phone!” I yelled to the empty bedroom.

The phone carrier’s logo came on the screen at a sickeningly slow speed and gradually faded, after nearly two minutes passed.

I heard a knock on the door as “3 missed calls” appeared on my phone screen. I just stared at my phone as I walked out of the bedroom and stood in the middle of the living room.

A voice came from beyond the door. “Gerard Way?” Unfamiliar.

Slowly, my eyes lifted up to look at the front door. Another knock, “Is anyone home? It’s an emergency. There’s been an accident.”

My heart stopped.