The First Letter.

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I don't know what to do, Gerard. I'm scared. You look so...lost, these days. You get up, you go to your art studio, and you stay there for hours on end. You only come out to pee and go to bed. You don't kiss me anymore. You don't talk to me. You don't touch me. Not even when we're lying in bed, and I wrap my arms around you, hoping for comfort, you don't give it to me.

You cry at night, I know you do. I don't know why. It hurts. I want to comfort you somehow, but I don't know how. I don't want you to be mad that I know you're crying. I've always hated it when you cry. You know I have.

You're losing weight. I know that too. You barely eat. Then again, neither do I. I can't eat knowing that you're not eating. I love you so much, Gerard. I always try and tell you, but...I don't know if you feel the same anymore.

What changed? Why are you like this? I don't understand. Something happened to you, and I don't know what. You've changed. You used to be happy. You used to smile. What can I do?

I just...hope that you find these letters and know what you're doing to me. I just want you to talk to me, to tell me what's going through your head.

You know I love you. You know I love you so, so much. Please, baby. Talk to me.

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