Sanity (Frerard)

Admitting

"I cut myself really bad yesterday."
I presented my wrist to Sykes.
"...I had to go to the hospital."

Frank wasn't with me.
But he was waiting.
Out in the waiting room.
I can be independent too,
You know.

But I don't think that's good for me.

"Can I look at it?" Skyes asked.
I gave him the O-K,
And he removed the gauze
Slowly.

He analyzed it in horror.

"I bled so much I passed out."
I told him this
In case he wanted to know.

(Or had to know)

"Why did you do it?"

I smiled,
"I want to get the bad out of me. I deserve it."
It made me feel worthless.

"You're not bad, Gerard. You don't deserve it."

But I do.
I didn't say it
Because I didn't feel like being arrogant.

So my quietness
Made him go quiet too after that.
It caused him to write something down.

He probably has a ton
Of fucked up things
About me in there.

I wanna know what he thinks about me.

This silence was deafening.
You could hear the air conditioning.

And every single move
Or snuggle
Or rub you make,

You could hear that too.

"I hate myself."
I tell Sykes.

His eyes look up at me.

"I hate myself because I'm not who I should be."

"Who should you be?"

"Someone good. Someone innocent.
I want to be someone happy."

I get those feelings
Every day.

He jots down on his paper.
That pen annoys me.

"But at the same time, I am happy. I don't know why I get so sad, but at the same time I'm not."

My hands spread apart.

They're moving with my words.
"It's like everything about me contradicts each other, and I don't and I can't understand it."

I look at my wrist, "I don't know what came over me to do that. It didn't even hurt when I did it. It felt like a release. My happiness wasn't enough and I didn't feel like enough. I can't even remember what I was thinking at the time, like I had all these overwhelming thoughts in my head, and it drove me to do that. It made me happy, because I was close to death, and that felt so human."

"Gerard...."
Sykes had a serious look.

I knew he didn't have anything to say
For he didn't know what to say
He didn't even know how to start.
He took a crisp breath,
"I guess to get to the root of this, I have to ask: Gerard, what are you not enough for?"

That's a nice start.

"Everything."
I tell him,
"I can't explain it but it's just everything. Even though I have anything I could want, there's still a part of me that's missing. And that, is what's causing me so much grief, because I cannot find a part of me."

My voice turns wobbly,
"And the worst part is that... Frank blames himself for my emptiness,
When it's not his fault.
It's my fault."

I'm trying so hard not to start sobbing,

"My hurt is making him hurt."

Sykes thinks.
Puts the end of his pen
To his lips.
"Gerard, I think you should see a psychiatrist. It's not that my help isn't enough for you, it's just that I think you need medication."

I didn't talk.

I stared at the floor.

"Okay." is all I manage to say.

I wanted to disappear right
Now.

He writes down on his papers more.
"I'm going to make you an appointment with a guy that I know. He's a very good psychiatrist. I know he can give you the things you need."

He gives me one of his
Comforting
Smiles.
It was genuine.
All of his smiles were genuine.

They were warm,
And reminded me of stuffed animals
For some reason.
His huge sweaters made them even warmer.

He wasn't fake.
I knew
Because I could tell it in his voice.

"You're still going to see me though, like I said, I just want to see if medication will help you."

I'm still going to miss him.
nonetheless.

"Is Frank here?"
I nod.
"Can I speak to him?"
I nod again.

And I meet Frank.

"Sykes thinks I need a psychiatrist." I told him, "he thinks I need medication. He just wants to talk to you about it, though."

I hold his hand

As I lead him to Sykes.

And on the way,

I noticed the awards
Sprawled on a wall.

I was right.

Doctor Oliver Sykes was a genuinely good doctor.

I trust him.