Save Me From My Self Destruction. (Frerard)

Chapter 18- The Chilling Truth

The Chilling Truth.-

Going through alcohol withdrawal, drug withdrawal, on top of cigarette withdrawal was utter hell. I just came to the conclusion to get my life on track again but god damn, it was so fucking annoying. It's fucking Jersey, every time I walk down the sidewalk I run into at least 10 people smoking a cigarette, 12 people drinking a beer on their run down porch, and 20 people doing drugs or making a deal in the nearest alley way. It's like a fucking ghetto here. 

My crazy withdrawal has caused me to be irritable and swear loads, and on top of all this shit I was still dealing with absence of not only my dead beat parents, but now my fucking adopted out 12 year old brother who left without uttering one fucking word to me. Even though I was the one there to raise him, for all these years. But somehow, I fucked it all up and now everyone is gone. Everyone except for Frank. 

When I look up from the dying grass on the ground of the eerily silent cemetery, I can see his sparkling eyes that reflect the light just perfectly. I can smell the women's Lemon body wash he uses, and his Aussie Grape scented shampoo. He liked to fight with me that his shampoo isn't grape scented, but it totally is. 

I can study his tiny feet and hands, his little smile and shiny hair. I can listen to his laugh forever. If it was legally and sociably acceptable I would record his laugh and replay it every night while I tried to sleep. The sound of his voice calms me, and makes me feel things. He makes me smile, he makes my soul light up once again. 

Frank reached over for my hand and held it in his, smiling at the sight of our fingers tangled in each other's. "I'm so glad you're sober, Gerard. You don't understand how happy that makes me." I laughed at his cute smile, "Franky, it's only been two days. I also have been getting these extreme migraines. Like my eyes burn every time I see the light, it's like a wicked hangover 24/7." 

He gave me an apologetic look and ran his thumb on the side of my sunglasses that sat in front of my eyes. I couldn't pry the lump that had formed in the center of my throat out, it was like a piece of ice was lodged into my esophagus, I was unable to speak. I just leaned into his soft warm hands a tad and thought about what all of this meant. My emotions were so fucked up, I had the erge to smash my lips into his. It wouldn't be our first kiss, so I had nothing to worry about. So I leaned in towards his face and kissed him as we were surrounded by all the dead pretty things. 

We were a work of art, Frank and I. He was the masterpiece and I was just the small object you couldn't see, but somehow we both fit in the painting well. Almost like it was meant to be. We were an artwork. We brought the life and beauty into a cemetery filled with nothing more than the deceased and the dying flowers on top of each eroding grave. 

It was like Frank lit a match within me, and I was terrified. I didn't know what it meant, but I rolled with it as much as I could. However a tiny voice in the back of my mind would not shut up, telling me that this is wrong. That I will only fuck Frank's life up just like I did my parents' and Mikey's. 

When we pulled apart the silence rejoined us for another visit. All that could be heard was our rapid breaths and the sound of the birds flying above searching for food. But if you watched, you could see an intimate moment between us, intimacy, what a weird fucking term. We weren't even dating or whatever because I don't believe in love. However, I still say it was such an intimate, more private, moment for us to share. 

I heard Frank sigh and my ears perked up immediately. "You were more right than you think, you know," He laughed. I could he was upset, and his laugh was not genuine, making my heart break into individual pieces. I listened to him intently, waiting for him to go on as I was interested now. "There is something wrong on the inside," He looked up at me with watery eyes and my already shattered heart started to crumble even more, which I did not think it was even possible. 

I had forgotten about all of my withdrawal pains as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat even more now, was Frank depressed? I couldn't stand to see him cry, I couldn't stand to think about Frank thinking so low about himself. Because in all honestly, Frank was the most magnificent creature I have laid my eyes on. 

"I was born with it, it's this heart condition. I've went through many surgeries for it, basically temporary bandages," 

Temporary, I knew this was a touchy subject for him and I felt like complete garbage for bringing up 'Something being wrong on the inside.' Saying inside just put the icing on the fucking cake, because it was an unintentional pun and it made me feel like absolute shit. Frank's heart was broken in more ways than just one. 

"There's nothing more they can do at this point, I'm on a waiting list for a heart transplant, they haven't found a donor yet. I'm going to die, Gerard."  A slow tear traveled it's way down his cheeks and down his wonderful pink lips. The lump in my throat grew with the sight of him, so calm, but yet so destroyed. It grew even more with the words that sunk in deep, I'm going to die Gerard. 

DIE

Despite me not really liking the thought of showing emotion, I started to cry with him as I embraced him a long and much needed hug. "You're not leaving me, you could do way better things than I could," I whispered in his ear. 

And it was true, Frank had this over whelming potential to do so many great things. All I ever did was destroy things, including myself. Frank did not deserve the shit he was handed with at birth. Hearing that your favorite person has a chance of dying is one of the scariest things you face in life, and it didn't help my depression at all. 

But I did know one thing, I wanted to do someone good in my life, and I was going to help Frank. His heart could barely beat for him alone, and I was going to save Frank's life. Frank was going to live, whether he thought otherwise or not. 

Frank was going to live and I was going to help him.