The Suicide Note of Frank Iero

You didn't get it, did you? Ok, so maybe you did, but you were just too fucking selfish to notice. When I went out of my way to do help you out, didn't you ever realize that I never did that for anyone else but you? Obviously not. Obviously you just thought I was being a great friend to you. A friend. That's all I ever was to you. A fucking friend!

It was horrible walking in and finding you in bed with someone other than your girlfriend that morning. But I kept the secret from everyone. And not just because we were best friends and that you could count on me to help you out. It was because I loved you that I kept it a secret. And you fucking knew it. You knew that my love for you was my weakness. I'd jump off a bridge for you. I'd run straight into a fire for you, and you fucking knew it. You fucking abused your knowledge. You used me.

I remember the time you began going out with the girl who I found with you in your bed. You looked me right in the eyes and said it, as though you were trying to see what my reaction would be. You know, it's funny, we're like magnets. Only that when I try to attract you, you instantly repel me. I acted to your face like I didn't care. I fucking cried myself to sleep that night.

The day you broke up with said girl was the happiest day I'd had in a long time. You were happy, and I was happy. I figured out that I might've had a chance with you. WRONG.

"What about your girlfriend, Frank?"

"Don't cheat on your girlfriend, Frank."

I'm not a fuck-wit. Ok, well for what I'm about to do, maybe I am. But you and I both knew the situation back then. You knew that all you had to do was say that you wanted me and I would've broken up with her. She deserved someone better. She deserved someone who loved her completely, not someone who only partially loved her like I did.

And then you got with her, with those long legs and that flexibility that made you so ecstatic because you were having the best bedtime fun every fucking night. I never told you this, but after you got with her, I did what you tell every one of those kids that we played to each night to not do. Call me a rebel or call me a dipshit, but I grabbed a piece of metal and sliced my ankle. And every so often I'd keep doing it. It was my secret addiction. It was hidden really well... for a while anyway. Until my girlfriend saw the healing scars. She knew something was wrong and would ask me, but I'd shrug it off. Although she did make me promise her that I'd stop. So I did. For her sake.

Then, I found myself eating twice the amount of food each day. It provided comfort. At least food was willing to shove its way into my mouth unlike your tongue. I didn't keep up my appearance and I didn't go out of my way to make conversation with anyone. What was the use? You'd never want me anyway. But for once, you noticed something was up.

"Frank, you've changed. What's up?"

"Frank, you can't avoid my questions forever. I know that you're not really looking that way so that you can try out to be Santa Claus at the mall, so tell me the real reason."

But I never let up. And so you married her. Sometimes I think it was just so that you could spite me. I pretended to be happy for you. I pretended to be happy with my life for a long time. Until it all finally caught up with me. I couldn't smile anymore. I couldn't act positive anymore, especially hearing from your brother that he'd received a phone call from you and that you were 'so happy with your life and didn't think it would be possible to ever be this happy'. What about us Gerard? We could've been happy together. I know you liked me too. It might not have been obvious as my love was for you, but I could still tell.

The first time I could tell that you had feelings for me was back in the 'Bullets' days. We'd sleep in our tour van on most nights, but on other nights, we'd be able to afford 1 hotel room between the five of us. Otter and Toro would sleep on the floor, while you, me and Mikey would share the double bed. Sure, it was squashy, but I remember the way you'd snuggle into me. I remember that one time you had the wet dream which freaked out Mikey because he was in the same bed as you. You asked me if you'd said anything embarrassing out loud. Everyone else had been asleep except for me when you'd had that dream, so I lied. I said you didn't say anything embarrassing. But really, you did. When you climaxed, while rubbing your cock up against my thigh, I heard you quietly moan my name. I wasn't stupid. I knew you had feelings for me.

And then there were all the times that you would come to me for comfort when you were dealing with depression while on the road. You'd talk to me, and just want to snuggle up with me backstage before a show. You had no idea what you were doing to me. My heart would go crazy every time you rested your head on my chest. I enjoyed our cuddles.

After you became sober, we'd still cuddle, and you'd look out for me. You always said it was because you saw me as a brother, but you never looked out for Mikey the same way you looked out for me.

I thought I'd try and let you know my feelings for you by kissing you and touching you on stage. I thought that maybe it would get you to confess your feelings for me. I remember that cold December evening when you confronted me and asked me what the kisses and touching was all about. I told you that maybe it would make people less homophobic. You loved the idea, but still asked me if I liked you. I told you the truth. I poured my soul out to you, only to have you walk away and not know what to say to me for a couple of days. It wasn't until I apologized for making things awkward that we were back to normal again.

But then once you got a different girlfriend and got engaged, you became so different. You were always slightly diva-like, but fuck, that girl almost succeeded in killing the Gerard who I fell in love with. You just didn't have the same passion that you used to. You didn't have that spark. I thought for a while that maybe you'd gotten over me. That maybe the relationship you had with that girl was the real deal. I got so fucking confused.

But I'll never ever forget the day that you broke up with her. Later that day you told me, and I was so happy, that without thinking, I kissed you. What surprised me though was that as I was about to pull back and run away from you, you began to kiss back. I thought that maybe you still had feelings with me. That maybe this was it. But after I'd led you over to my hotel bed and pulled you on top of me. After I'd unbuttoned your top to reveal that chest which made my cock stand to attention, you got off of me, brought up the fact that I had a girlfriend, and left. You broke my heart.

Then, at the start of that summer, we'd gotten over that, and this time you were much more forward to me. Almost like you wanted us to be together, but didn't know quite how to make it happen. Or maybe you did know how to make it happen, but you didn't want to get involved with a band member, because you didn't want the band to break up if our romance were to ever break up. The memory of that interview, where you said that the kiss you gave me on stage was payback, made me liven up. What was it payback for? Was it to say thank you for the kiss I'd given you when you split with your girlfriend? Although, I would like to forget the sarcastic remark about the kiss feeling like magic. Gerard, you need to learn to keep that mouth of yours shut sometimes. Some of the stuff you say can hurt.

Did you realize how much my eyes lit up when you spoke to me, or complemented me? Did you realize how much I smiled around you? Did you realize that I never smiled like that around my girlfriend. Sure, I loved her enough to marry her, but if I'd married you, it truly would've been the happiest day of my life.

Then you fucking moved to the other side of the country. It was almost like you were abandoning everyone. Your family, your friends. And for what? The whole fakeness of LA? Bullshit Gerard. You hated those sorts of people. Why did you really move away? Was it so that you didn't have to see me? Because it was so hard not to see your face. At least when we were living close by we'd see one another from time to time, and I'd be happy, because I'd get my "dose of Gerard". But now you're too far away, and I've lost my smile. And for that reason I'm about to put a nice, shiny, black gun to my head and all of my heartache and pain will be over. You're probably wondering where I got the gun from. But Gerard, the answer's too easy. I live in Jersey. There are guns all over the place.

Don't worry about my wife reading this letter. I know that she won't. I trust her not to. Besides, I've given her a letter of her own. But in that one, there's no mention of my heartache for you. I just told her that I loved her, that my death was not her fault and that I just couldn't live my life anymore. So if you at least love me as a friend, you'll never tell her about anything that went on and you especially won't tell her about my feelings for you. You'll comfort her, and offer her your support, because that's what she'll need.

Take care Gerard. I hope you have a great life.
Love Frankie
xo

P.S - Don't blame yourself. It's my fault that things have come to this. Sometimes, you just can't help who you fall in love with.

Frank sealed the envelope and picked up the gun. He'd always had a big heart. He'd always put everyone else before himself. And now it was his turn to put himself first for once. He brought the gun slowly to his head and without thinking, he pulled the trigger. That day, an angel received his wings.