I was a fool.
No one could be as pathetic as I was, but there I was being it at its best. I don't even know how life could possibly create such a huge mistake like myself, but there I was breathing. I knew I wasn't suppose to, I was just wasting oxygen. My soul was being punished with the worst thing possible, having to live. And I was simply torturing myself by going on with it.
It was so easy to end someone's life. At least that's how they made it seem on all the murder documentaries I had to watch because of Gerard.
Then why was it so damn hard to end my own?
Today I wish I could say that the day Gerard stood in my room after months of ignoring me, I got up from the floor where I had lain to fucking slap him. That I yelled at him for all that he had done to me, that he had killed me on the inside.
But, that is not anywhere near what I can say without hiding the truth.
Sadly and shamefully I have to admit that I rose up from the floor like a child on Christmas morning and engulfed Gerard in a big hug.
Like that pathetic piece of nothingness I was.
He heavily smelled like alcohol and he didn't hug me back, but still I was so happy to have him near me again, to feel his warm touch.
It didn't feel like it was fire on ice, melting it away. It was rather dull, but there was a spark. I could've sworn there was. He was so much warmer than anybody else.
"Hey Frankie...!" Gerard's words were a slur. I had never heard him like that before. Added to the fact that I hadn't heard him in felt ages either, what he said almost seemed foreign.
Even if his words would've been crystal clear, I didn't even know what to say to him right there and then. I had no words.
Nonetheless, I was overwhelmingly happy and a tiny speck in my mind knew that I should've been mad, but I just couldn't.
I had no one, so I just had to take what I could get.
Gerard grabbed my face in his hands so I looked at him, dropping my arms to my side.
His beautiful eyes were bloodshot, they missed that special spark that made them seem as bright as the stars on a pitch black night. His hair was greasy and messy, his breath smelled so horribly like alcohol.
He gave me a smile, one I had never seen before. It seemed rather off and goofy as joyful and happy, but I still returned it.
I needed the affection, even if it wasn't exactly what I had in mind.
"You loook sh-shit, Frankie. Put on something else."
I blinked a couple of times, his words throwing me off completely.
In a way they threw me back into reality. Into the reality in which Gerard had suddenly started to ignore me because I wasn't relevant to his life anymore. Because he didn't need me anymore.
It shouldn't have surprised me that those were the first words he had spoken to me since months of silence.
"Go." Gerard demanded, weakly pushing me into the direction of my wardrobe.
I nodded hesitantly. "O-okay."
Honestly, I know that I was such a coward. I really wish I hadn't been.
Gerard had me wrapped around his finger, he could use me any time he wanted, how ever he wanted while hurting me all the same. I'd fall for it over and over again.
So there I was, actually trying to find some decent clothing in the piles that were just thrown into my wardrobe. Truthfully, I had been wearing the same sweats for weeks. So maybe putting on some jeans wasn't the worst thing he could've done to me.
