Antithesis

Does the inevitability of death petrify you? Does it send chills through your being and make you tremble in angst? Have you even given the thought of death any attention, or have you been too busy wallowing in jubilation of your accomplishments? Even if you are full of pride and exultation, you're thinking about it now, aren't you? You're interrogating death and it's many ways of infiltrating your life. You're probably fearful of death now that you've really given the subject some deep thought.

If you are, then we are complete opposites. Our thoughts completely contradict one another's. Talk about antithesis.

In my eyes, death is inviting; holding out open arms for anyone who wishes it upon themselves, or for anyone who's not strong enough to keep fighting life. Thoughts of death give me a sensation that cannot be compared. Ever since Gerard has passed, death has been flooding my mind and giving me a satisfaction that I could only feel when he was in my arms, tucked beneath a soft blanket as his body pressed against mine.

I remember the way his hazel eyes were so radiant, and how they were so vital to me. I remember how delicate his feminine lips were, and the distinct flavor of strawberries they always held. His skin was smooth, and it's perfection was unrealistic; not a single flaw was apparent. The jet black hair atop his head shone so naturally, and light would bounce off of it and give it even more beauty. He was the very definition of paradisiac.

His death was my woe.

-2 weeks earlier-

"I'm so sick of this, Frank! Why did you have to make everything so difficult?" He was enraged, and all I did was fuel the fire.

"Just fucking leave or something! I won't care! I want you to leave me alone!" Anger got the best of me, and I just kept firing bullets carelessly as I had been for quite some time already.

He didn't say anything else as he snatched the keys and left, slamming the door shut behind him. At the time, I was to furious to care. I had been burning with anger, and I just wanted to be alone. I sat down on the leather patterned couch with the sole intention of calming myself. Maybe, I had thought, maybe we could fix it when we got back.

Two hours later, I began panicking. He should have been home by now. How long could he have driven for? My phone rang, and I picked it up without checking the caller ID; as I was quickly becoming hysterical.

"Gerard?" I interrogated the person at the end of the line, my hands clutching onto the phone as though my life depended on it.

"Is this Mr. Iero?" A feminine voice that I didn't recognize raised my suspicions. Who was this? Was Gerard with her? Was Gerard drunk again? Was he okay?

"Y-yes, who's this?" My voice was high and packed to the brim with worry. What the hell was going on?

"I'm calling about your fiancé, Gerard Way. He's in critical conditi-"

"Where is he?" I choked on tears. He was hurt? I knew it was my fault; it had to be. If I hadn't told him to leave, we would have made up by now and everything would be okay.

"Scripps Mercy Hospita-" I hung up and grabbed my leather jacket; tucking my house keys into the pocket of my black skinny jeans. I needed to get to Gerard, he needed to be safe. He had to be.

Once I had started heading to the hospital, I realized the reality of the situation. Gerard could die tonight. Death. At one point, Gerard wished to die, but now? I'm positive he's terrified of the thought. My knuckled had turned whiter than usual, and my lip was cut from as the biting I was was doing to it. Tears cascaded down my cheeks and my eyes were red. I had been speeding, but I really could care less. That is, until a cop pulled me over.

"Fuck!" I could afford to get a ticket right now! Out of all times, this was the most unfavorable.

He took his time making his way to my car and for that, I mentally cursed him. Little fucker.

I rolled down my window and a tall, dark skinned man stood there with a tag that read V. Fuentes. His hair reached his shoulders, and shades covered his eyes. He had a cap on, and he pulled out a notepad.

"Mind telling me why you're going 20 miles past speed limit sir?" He spoke in a raspy voice, almost as though he had been crying not too long ago. Strange, I thought. Cops have actual emotions.

"I have to get to the hospital. My boyfriend's the-"

"Alright, I understand. You're free to go," he interrupted, confusing my tremendously. He began walking back to his vehicle, but I stopped him. "Why are you just letting me go?"

"Because, see this ring?" He lifted his hand, revealing a silver hoop around his ring finger. I nodded once, just to let him know I had. "The other person that wears this, he's dead. Lost him last week to cancer. I know what it's like to be scared for someone's life. I know what it's like to lose the one you love, and let me tell you..." he paused, taking off his glasses to reveal tears, red chocolate brown eyes with bags under them. Tears fell as he continued. "It's the most painful thing in the world."

With that, he got back into his car and drove off, leaving me in silence.

Gerard had to be okay.

I arrived at the hospital and ran to the desk. A bored, uninterested looking lady peered up at me through her glasses, and asked me who I was there for.

"Gerard Arthur Way, please. I need to see him, I'm his fiancé." She nodded and typed something into the computer. "Room 367, floor three." I thanked her and took the elevator up the floor three before running down the halls the moment there was enough space for me to squeeze through the metal doors.

I crashed into the room and there he lay, weak and fragile with cuts and bruises covering his body. A bandage wrapped around his head and blood seeped through it, making me feel sick to the very pit of my stomach.

"G-Gerard?" I squeaked, rushing to his side and gently grasping his hand. "Hey Frank," he tried his best to smile, but I can tell he was in pain. "I got here as fast as I could."

"It hurts, Frank. So bad," he whined, his facade falling as he suddenly gripped his stomach and turned on his side; facing me. "It's okay, baby. I promise," I rubbed his back soothingly, trying to comfort him in some way. I couldn't imagine how hard it must've been for him; laying down on his bed, knowing he was going to die. I didn't know, but he did. He was intellectual, unlike I could ever be. He faced reality, and I only I looked at the sugar coated version of things.

"I love you, Frankie."

"I love you too, Gerard."

He looked deeply into my eyes, sorrow glazing over his. Poignancy filled the air, and next thing I knew, his eyes were closed and the monitor stopped beeping.

-Present-

I know that there's no word I will ever be able to use to explain the amount of heartbreak and misery that I've felt since, or the moment I realized that he was gone. My world without him is so pointless; so void.

There was a time in which I considered killing myself; cocking a gun and ending everything. The urge was so strong, and I honest to God still wish I could. You want to know why I didn't? Because I know that if me and Gerard switched places, and he were the one with a gun to his head, there no way in hell I'd want him to rid himself of his own life, and I know he wouldn't want me doing so either.

I'm living for you, Gerard. I love you.