With a Love Like Yours

Friday was hell. Then again, Thursday had been too. It was like I was dragging myself through the day on autopilot. I couldn’t really stop, if I did I wouldn’t have been able to keep going. The only time I relaxed was when Mikey, Gerard, and I were watching that stupid movie and laughing afterwards. Gerard was such a space cadet sometimes, which is odd because other times it seems like he’s observing absolutely everything. There are some things I really hoped he didn’t notice. Things I hope no one notices. That brings us to where I was Friday night, after Gerard and Mikey had gone to bed. Thursday night, I cried, Friday night I sobbed. I just couldn’t keep going. It was too much. All too much. I wanted more than anything to be in my own bed, but I was also so completely relieved to be out of that house. My parents hated me. I know everyone thinks that at one point or another, but for me, it’s true. Everything I did got some kind of criticism. My music, my hair, my clothes, my friends, my girlfriend, or lack thereof. I was too short, too immature, too trashy, too “emo,” too dumb, etc., etc. I thought of that and I thought of that last fight, them yelling what a failure I was. Kicking me out in the end. It’s not that I hadn’t wanted to leave for a long time, it’s that I wanted to choose when I left. I needed control. I was such a fuck up.
Mikey and Gerard are probably going to kick me out too. I mean, who would blame them? No one wants an extra person in their house, especially one who isn’t contributing to anything. Hell, I was just making everything more difficult. Who even knows if they actually like me? They probably don’t. They’re probably just doing this out of sympathy. Oh god no one likes. No one. I’m alone. I’m all alone. I’m a failure, oh my god oh my god oh my god I -
“Frank..?” a voice said tentatively. It was Gerard. Shit shit shit shit shit shit oh my god he couldn’t see me like this no no no no no no no I needed to get out what was I doing…