Save Me From My Self Destruction. (Frerard)

Chapter 23- Reality Is Not A Dream

Reality Is Not A Dream.-

After multiple nights of crying, I came to the conclusion I should probably eat or drink something. I was becoming dizzy and running out of tears, and I was sure Gerard would not want this for me. Just as I did not want the same for him.

As I stood up, stumbling a bit from being so damn light headed, I grabbed the pack of cigarettes my mom had left on the counter. I opened the package and stared at the sticks for awhile, debating if I wanted to go down that road.

Just as I was making my decision the phone rang, rather loudly might I add. It scared me half to death, making me jump and drop the package to the ground.

It was my doctor calling, and I wasn't sure if I could handle anymore bad news. Although, at this point dying sounds just about as close to a dream as I could get. I just longed to see Gerard's face one more time, I wanted to smell his room, the smokey atmosphere that swarmed him.

However, I ended up with the phone pressed against my right ear anyway. I had to try to do my best in this life, however long that may be. As I know any day now I would be kicking the bucket. Gerard's optimism had died with him, my life could not be saved.

"Frank Iero, do I have some news for you, are you sitting down?" His voice came through the speaker. I rolled my eyes at his optimism as well and sat back down. "What is it?" I questioned.

"Your friend Gerard?" He asked, making sure the name sounded familiar. "Yeah?" I asked, my heart breaking a little, the shards of it stuck in my esophagus.

"You do realize he had a permit, right?" He was trying to be careful with such a touchy topic. I rolled my eyes again, he was treating me like such a fragile porcelain doll. "Sorry to cut this short, what does this have to do with my health?" I asked, annoyance becoming present within me.

"Frank, he was an organ donor.."

********

I wasn't sure I wanted this. This could not possibly be how things were meant to work out. This could not be my outcome, his outcome. Gerard deserved to live more than I did. He was my other missing piece to this shitty puzzle.

But he loved me.

My mom, with tears brimming her eyes, watched with her hand over her quivering mouth as I was being wheeled down the hospital hallway in a wheel chair. I was headed to the operating room.

Gerard had literally given me his heart.

I was met with white lights that burned my eyes and sterile equipment, I felt like if I even exhaled in the room I would be germing up the place. My presence did not belong here. But somehow, I was here.

Basically I was drugged. I was put into a deep sleep where everything wasn't real, but of course I didn't know that at the time.

I felt weightless and free. I could see Gerard's smiling face, his pale skin glowing in the light. This time he wasn't surrounded by smoke or drugs, but he was surrounded by various flowers with various colors and patterns. He looked absolutely stunning.

I could feel him, physically and emotionally. Like he was standing right in front of me, smiling. He looked so comfortable and happy, and it made my palms sweat with nerves. It was like a first date all over again.

"Please say something," I whispered to him, wanting to hear his voice speak to me. 

"Frankie," he moved closer, kissing me on the lips. I had kissed back immediately.

I thought I had died on the table, because seeing him was unreal. And at first, I did die on the table, but I was shocked back to life sadly.

Seeing Gerard was a dream, and as the medication wore off, I was now stuck in reality. Gerard was gone. He was dead, but his heart wasn't.

I placed my hand over my chest gently, making sure to be careful of the stitches holding me together. I could feel the beating at a steady pace. That was him, it was Gerard.

Soon, I recovered. I was still an emotional mess, feeling selfish. I made Gerard so sad that I took his heart, literally. But apparently, he wanted it to end like this. He had sent a personal letter to my doctor the morning of his suicide. Too bad my doctor didn't get the letter sooner, I could have stopped Gerard from killing himself.

It was supposed to be me, not him. But after the surgery took place, with Gerard's still beating heart placed in my chest, I had made a pact. I was going to accomplish great things, and Gerard was going to meet his parents, spiritually.

My heart was not jus my heart anymore, my life was not just my life. I was now living for myself and the guy I was sure I had fallen for. Gerard didn't even believe in love, but apparently I changed that for him.

What was Gerard hiding, Mikey asked. Well, the conclusion was clear as crystal. Gerard was hiding his own emotions, he was hiding himself behind drugs and alcohol. He was so caught up in self-destruction.

Before Gerard died there was one thing he managed to do. He managed to make me feel alive. He made me forget about the previously shitty working organ I had inside of me. He wiped all of my stress away, making me as free as ever.

He had gotten better, and I felt like I owed him. Not only did he manage to save my life, but he has done so much for me. So I framed his letter and hung it on my wall, I kept the slowly dying white roses, in memory d the greatest guy who I was sure had lived. But my next mission? It was to quickly locate his brother and parents.