Fickle Reticence

“Frank, I know that this might be a lot to ask, but could you go hang out with Gerard for a little while?”

“I’ve got class, in like,” Frank checks his wrist, realizes he’s not wearing a watch and grabs his phone from his pocket, “like twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, but you can go to your class and see Gee after, it’s just... Gee’s having a bad day,” Mikey says.

“Fuck, what? What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes it just happens, you know? We all have bad days, Gerard just has really really really bad days.”

“I’m going over there now then,” Frank says, throwing his backpack onto his bed, because really, college is expensive yes, and he’s going to be in debt for the rest of his life, but there are some things more important than it. Like the sanity of Gerard, who’s been getting worse the past few weeks very steadily.

“But you have class,” Mikey says, as Frank’s rushing towards the door.

“You know, I do have class, but I also have a life, and people I care about.”

With that, Frank’s out the door, hurrying down the long hall which smells peculiarly of breakfast food. Smells always linger for about three days in this building, Frank’s not sure what it is about the vents, but you can always tell what smells have been through here. You can literally choke on the perfume smell outside the door of the girls at the end of the hall.

After the incident with the vandalism of their door, Gerard’s stopped leaving their dorm for any reason at all but for class. If Frank didn’t have the sense to bring food, they’d have starved a week ago. Mikey insists that this happens sometimes and it’s nothing Frank should be concerned about, but that’s not exactly reassuring. Frank never stops worrying over Gerard. He’s almost never at ease with Mikey insisting everything’s fine, because he’s never fully okay with the fact that everything is fine.

Frank doesn’t think of himself as some cure or anything. He’s absolutely sure that there is no real cure for gender dysphoria unless you have the actual freedom to just fucking be who you are, but Gee’s got this problem with anxiety where they’re incapable of being who they are without feeling guilty, or feeling spied on, and Frank hates that Gerard can’t just be happy. That’s what he wants more than anything. He just wants to take all the crap away and let Gerard be happy. He wants to erase statistics, smash in the brains of anyone who judges, and make the world perfect for Gerard. If he had one wish, that’s what he’d do with it. Frank wants to give Gerard the world and then some.

And it kills him that he’s never going to be able to help the way he wants. He’s never going to stop the self-destruction or the external prejudice, or the fear. The only thing Frank really can do is make Gerard smile a little. If that’s what he has to settle for, he’ll do it, he absolutely will, but he wishes he had the power to make everything better.

Frank is overly protective of Gerard. Hell, he’s like Gee’s very own protective service, and he would do anything to keep Gerard safe, but the biggest issue is that Gerard’s biggest enemy is not something Frank can protect them from. It’s Gerard. Gerard is simultaneously stranded and alone, and their own greatest enemy.

Frank’s been getting lost in his own head a lot recently. He keeps thinking about all the things that might happen and worrying himself to sleep every night when he doesn’t get to be near Gerard. Apparently Frank’s got a knack for sympathetically worrying too much, because he cares far too much about other people. He doesn’t consider that a bad thing.

He’s in front of Gee’s door in no time. He’s not even sure how quickly he ran, but the campus is a lot smaller to him when he’s not thinking. It’s weird because the grounds are huge if he’s in a hurry to get across to another building, but if he’s not even paying attention to his feet then the walk becomes almost instantaneous.

Only seconds after knocking, Frank’s met with, “go away!”

“I’m not going away Gee.”

There’s a huffing sound, far too exaggerated if Frank can hear it from outside the door, and then the doorknob is twisting and Gerard, draped in their duvet, answers with red eyes so sunk into their skull that it’s hard to look directly into them.

“You’re supposed to be in class right now,” Gerard says, knowing Frank’s schedule apparently.

“I don’t care where I’m supposed to be, I’m here now,” Frank says, pushing past Gerard into the room. The door closes quickly behind him and Frank stands next to the desk before Gerard’s falling back on the mattress with a soft thud. Frank sighs and goes to sit down right next to Gerard, feet dangling over the edge, almost not touching the ground. Frank’s always seen the curse of being short as having the worst affect when his feet dangle over the edges of comparatively short seats.

“So what’s up Gee?”

“Nothing, I don’t know why you’re here,” Gerard replies.

“I don’t believe you. Just, like let it out. I’m not gonna judge.”

“I just feel really, I don’t know, blank today.”

“Blank?” Frank asks.

“Blank,” Gerard nods.

“Blank how?”

“Like I hurt so much that I don’t have it in me to hurt anymore so I’m just sort of empty. Like an empty bottle that’s now full only of air.”

“What do you need?” Frank asks, “Do you need some time off or do you need me to go.”

“No,” Gerard says quickly, and Frank looks down at them, lets Gerard’s eyes dig into him, and he nods, letting himself lie down to be level with Gerard. From this angle Gerard looks much more vacant, like they’re only half there. It kind of reminds Frank of a do not disturb sign except for the part that Gerard looks desperate at the same time.

“I’m going to stay here as long as you need me to, Gee,” Frank says. Gerard nods and turns their head to look up at the ceiling. They also very discreetly scoot a little closer to Frank, but he pretends not to notice.

“I guess I’ve just been having a hard time. I was going to say ‘lately’ but I figured that would be a bit of a lie, because it’s not recent. It hasn’t been of late. It’s always kind of been there. Ever since I was able to understand the concept that not all was right with the world, that it’s not so black and white, it’s been hard. It’s always been and always will be hard. I don’t know what it is about life that just loves to kick you while you’re down, but it does. But the thing is that, I think the phrase ‘kick you while you’re down’ is a bit of a misnomer, because it’s not when you’re down that things get worse. It’s when things get really bad, and I mean really really fucking bad, and then things lighten up the slightest, such a tiny amount that you don’t even register it, but you can sort of get a breath in. That’s when you get kicked the hardest. From there you go down. You recede further. If you’d been down before than this is literally something you’ve never imagined, because every time you get sad, every single time, it’s worse than your sadness has ever been before. That’s true, it’s always worse, always, and that’s because it piles.

“There’s this big misconception with the world, that sadness can go away, and it can’t. No matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you push, it’ll always be there. Always, no matter what, sadness is never gone. It’s always there. And when you get better, it doesn’t get less, that sadness, it’s still there, it’s still there in full, it’s just been shrouded. It’s been veiled and it’s not as painful, but it is absolutely still there. You’re just not thinking about it when things start to get better, so when you feel better, when you feel your mood lightening, coming out of the dark and into a lighter world, it’s still there, it’s just hidden by a couple of layers. You’re distracted for a while, that’s all. And then when it comes back, it’s still that big pile. It’s still there and it’s still huge and it still hurts, and it hurts more than it ever has before because it’s being added onto this big ass-pile of sad. It’s like a landfill, you know? But the shit in this landfill can’t ever go away, it’s just there. It’s there and it’s always going to be there and there ain’t a thing we can do to make it go away, because it’s there. And then trash day comes and more is piled on.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Frank says.

“Well it doesn’t matter if you believe it if it’s true. You can say you don’t believe in gravity but that doesn’t make it any less of a fact.”

“But when you grow up, you start to forget. You can be sad, but in time, you forget how much it hurts, that’s what it’s about. There’s always tragedy. There’s always things to feel hurt over, but it doesn’t always cripple you. I think that’s what happens then. I don’t think it piles and piles, waiting for you to have an anxiety attack. I’m not saying that it all goes away, but some of it does. I mean, I got really down one time I forgot to save my video game, but I’m not still sad about that.”

“There’s a difference between sad and disappointed,” Gerard says, “and there’s a huge difference between depressed and sad. People think they’re synonyms but they’re not. Depression is like emptiness. Sadness is far better than depression. I would take a million years of sadness over any amount of depression, because it’s like nothing. It feels like hollowness. It feels like an ice cream scoop digging out your insides so that all you’re left with is a shell. Depression is like the next step after sadness. You only feel it when the sadness has reached a point where your body has shut down. You just can’t take it anymore so it decides to turn everything off altogether. And I feel like that right now, and I hate it. At least when you’re sad you feel something, you know? At least you know what you’re thinking, and know what you’re feeling, and it hurts, of course it does, but it’s not like this. It’s nothing like this... emptiness. Like a fucking vacuum and I hate it.”

“I wish I could make it go away, Gee, I do. And if I could I’d give anything. But I’m still here for you in any way that I can be. Okay? Like, I am here, and I am going to be here whenever you need me to be. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

“I just want to be normal.”

“There’s no such thing as normal, Gee.”

“Yes there is,” Gerard replies.

“No, there really isn’t. Normalcy is a construct made up by assholes to undermine the existence of those who don’t fit a plastic casing of their ideal model who are no more or less than you or anyone else. You’re not... well, Gerard, you’re not normal, or special, or trend setting for being who you are, you’re just you. Gender isn’t a fashion statement, it’s just what you are. In the same way, I’m not normal or special for being who I am, I’m just Frank.”

“But you are special to me,” Gerard says.

“Well personality is different from gender anyway. We’re all unique, that’s ingrained, but there’s nothing special or out of the ordinary with whatever gender you are. And anybody worth a damn knows that there’s literally nothing cool or individualistic about being whatever gender you are, because it’s just fucking who you are.”

Gerard sighs, doesn’t talk for a minute and Frank looks over to watch them. Gerard’s just sort of blinking at the ceiling like they’re seeing something entirely different to what Frank is, and he wishes he could fix all the bad thoughts in their brain to see what Frank sees every time he looks at Gerard.

“The world is such a dismal place when you look at it the way I have to. I have no choice. You know how hard it is to live the way I have to? And I have no choice, it’s not a thing I get to decide. Have you ever thought about how sick it is, how absolutely appalling that we ostracize people on things they can’t change? People are marginalized, screwed over, denied human decency and human fucking rights because of a fucked up procedure of allocating worth to unalterable nonconformity. What the fuck is that about? What the everloving fuck is that about? Why do we do that? Why would we ever be so horrendous to each other, when we’re all we’ve got? I don’t get it. I don’t get humanity. I never have.”

Frank sighs, “See, the thing about humanity is that, as a whole, we suck. We start wars, we cause pollution, we kill for sport, we argue, we get into fights, we take away rights from people that other people have, we divide ourselves up into separate countries even though we’re all the same damn species, we do all these horrible things. We start fires, and we throw things at people, and we piss on the sidewalk, and we don’t clean up after our dogs. We’re just really shitty. We’re awful. There’s nothing that I like about us as a whole. Humans suck.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Well, see, the thing is that humans, we’re not meant to be considered as one unit. If you dissect anything as one unit you’re probably going to come up with a negative reaction to it, because negativity is much louder than positivity. It takes up much more area than positivity does. Like, you know how you weigh less on the moon than you do on planet earth, or at least, gravity provides far less pressure on the moon than it does here, but you have the same amount of mass wherever you go? So, positivity, it’s seen from the perspective of the moon, right? You’ve got the same mass of stuff, but it’s lighter, because it’s not as powerful. But back here on planet earth, you have negativity. With that shit all piled together, it weighs more. It takes up the exact same amount of space, but it’s heavier.”

“Get to your point,” Gerard replies.

“Well,” Frank says, interlacing his fingers with Gerard’s, “When you look at humanity from the outside in and you clump us all together, you’ve got a lot of Gandhi’s and Nelson Mandela’s. You’ve got a lot of really upstanding, good people. You’ve got the genius who invented air conditioning, and whoever thought to put chocolate chips into cookies. But you’ve got some Hitler’s too. You’ve got a couple Stalin’s and, hell, you’ve got some Voldemort’s and Sauron’s. But the thing is, we’ve still got good people. We don’t take big long units I school on the good people do we? I can tell you a dozen facts I’ve learned about Hitler, but I can’t tell you nearly as much about Churchill, and it’s not because I didn’t pay attention in class or anything, it’s just that we don’t focus on it as much.

“When you go to watch a movie, literally any movie in the world, the plot is about a problem that has to be fixed. That’s what plots are about. That is what every plot ever is about. He’s gotta defeat the seven evil exes, they’ve gotta destroy the ring in Mount Doom, she’s gotta learn how to act like a princess so that she can be the queen of Genovia someday, they've gotta go to Shell City, get the crown, save the town and Mr. Krabs. You know, the plot’s always about fixing what’s wrong, and history is like that too. It’s a big self-describing fulfillment of human nature. There’s always a problem that’s got to be solved. People are the problem in this case, and that’s what we always focus on. We always focus on the shit.”

“You’re still digressing. Frank, I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it’s not going to get us anywhere, okay? I really fucking hate humanity. Like, how can you blame me? We’ve managed to fuck everything up about this planet and we’ve only been here for like literally less than one percent of the planets existence.”

“Okay, but just hear me out. My point is that, yes, there are still people who park their car in two spaces, and people who troll on YouTube videos, but there’s always going to be the people who hold the door open for you, and the people who let you go in front of them at the checkout, and the guy who sings karaoke really unapologetically even if he’s really bad at it, and the people who leave twenty dollar tips on ten dollar orders, and the lady who sees the crying kid and gives them a balloon, and that guy who remembers your birthday even though you only ever brought it up once, and the person who buys your lunch when you ran out of money, and the cashier who hooks you up with a coupon if you don’t have one, and the friend who shaves their head if someone they care about has to go through chemo, and the person who puts an extra couple of coins in your parking meter if it’s about to run out, and for fucks sake, Gerard, there’s you. And if the world isn’t an amazing place when we’ve got all that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“God Frank,” Gerard huffs, sounding annoyed.

“What? How did that piss you off?” Frank asks, looking sad as he looks at Gerard with his eyes that are honestly probably made from the essence of caramel and babies laughing.

“It’s not that, it’s just, I think I’m starting to realize that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That’s probably a good thing then, because I’m pretty damn sure you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Frank says, and Gerard can’t help but to smile a little bit, which is enough for Frank. He doesn’t believe he can ever make things stop hurting, but he likes to think that he can make the fleeting moments a little brighter, and that’s what really counts. Life isn’t about a big picture. It’s not about achieving success, because you never can achieve success. You can so good things, go places, get anywhere, but you can’t achieve it. The most important thing is, and always will be the present, because life is watching the world fly by in the passenger seat of the car. It’s listening to the radio over the PA system in the department store. Life isn’t made up of what you do and people you know, life isn’t even made up of you or your thoughts. Life is the fleeting moments.

And in this fleeting moment, life isn’t perfect. Frank knows it’s not, and he knows it’s never going to be, but this fleeting moment, this is perfect. It’s perfect because Gerard is smiling, hand warm in Frank’s, and Frank’s thinking about every individual hair on Gerard’s head and how he loves every single one, and how he loves Gerard even if he’s afraid to say it. And this fleeting moment feels like a forever within no amount of time at all.

It’s now that even Gerard has to admit, life sucks, of course it does, but there’s no doubt in their mind that life is pretty good too.