Are You Ready For Another Bad Poem?

Part1/Chapter3

Patrick's Point Of View:

A boat load of thoughts raced through my mind rapidly making me dizzy, and I really could not think straight. At all. I can't say what's happening in my mind exactly, considering the fact that different types of thoughts loaded my already feeling heavy enough brain. Even small stupid thoughts, such as: Dear God I hope my fedora wasn't as tilted when I took pictures with my fans. I hope my bulge wasn't showing. I pray my hair wasn't a fucking mess. Please tell me I sang at least good enough tonight. See that? That's called being tired. The others would consider a well-thought 'crazy', however I didn't think I was crazy. I mean, come on, I'm just a small, sweaty guy. Nothing more. I'm not an angel. I'm not cute. I'm not innocent. I am your simple every day human being.

I slipped the keys out of my pocket, and unlocked the door. Oh, the smell of home. Oh, not the smell of a sweaty tour bus. My home. Where Elisa waits for me. For the first time, a smile creeped up on my face. I loved hanging with Joe, Andy, and Pete, but Elisa. She's my wife. I'm NOT implying my friendship with Fall Out Boy are any less different starting right at the moment I was engaged, that was a simple lie. Once Pete had MJ, Bronx and Saint as his beautiful family, his relationship with me and the guys didn't change at all, taking as an example. We are a gang. We are a team. We are a group. We love each other and our fans equally, and if you think the opposite of that, I can't seem to find other words to correct you. Cause without Elisa, Joe, Andy, and Pete, my life would be the biggest goddamn mess.

I swung my hat on a coat rack on the right near the front door, and in a completly tired manner, headed for our room. I placed my stained glasses on the nightstand, and threw off my pants, cause ha, who needs 'em? To add, I also took off my shirt to make myself comfortable.

I already had dinner with the band, but always, Elisa makes me something everytime I return home. Even though I usually have a full stomach, I always enjoy what she makes me, and the stomach pains afterwards are worth it. So as always, I head back downstairs and make eye contact with our kitchen once again.

This time it was ramen, yum. Chicken flavor, she knows me so well it's actually quite ridiculous. Since ramen isn't a very 'creative' food, she added a rose to the side. Looking behind me, I saw the new bouquet of flowers laying down on the table, which were most likley for me. I do respect the effort she puts in for me, really. I just feel awful knowing I only do half as much effort for her. And I'm the Romeo. That's it, I'm taking her out for an expensive dinner tomorrow, and giving her a small present. I need to start being an excellent man, as I'm supposed to be. 'But you are', you would say, but I don't consider myself even a great man, knowing how little I do for her because I'm always so busy. Tomorrow the guys and I plan to hang out because we don't have a concert to preform then, but ha, sorry, I'm spending time with my wife.

Once done both admiring the beautiful roses and ramen, I headed back upstairs, to find Elisa, who has appearantly just gotten out of the shower. She has a towel around her, and her beautiful curly hair was as well. For the second time, I smile widely, kissed and hugged her tight. Every minute I'm away from her I miss her more and more.

"Thank you for the roses, babe. You didn't have to, really!" I chuckled, "I missed you so much. So, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so..." I kept repeating that as my eyes wondered off and a smile remained on my face. She giggled, god I love when she does that, "I know how much you've missed me. I missed you just as much. I lov-"

"But I love you way more!" I intureppted. She giggled again, "I love you the most, though." Oh God, now I can feel how hard it's being to keep in that I have a surprise night out remaining for her tomorrow. But I have to keep it in, It's a surprise, for her. And for my sake to enjoy it as much as possible.

I sighed, "I'm a hot mess, and honestly I never felt more tired. Today my mind decided to clog up five times as much today, I feel like utter shit."

"Oh, no! That's awful, I hate seeing you in pain, in bed right now!"

I did as she said. "Oh, Patrick, also, go ahead and fall asleep. I'll be there in a bit," she added as she went ahead into the bathroom. I need to add, I love Elisa, obviously, but I'm not the sexual type. I don't like woman for their body. I don't know, I just find it strange. I love her SO much for her heart. She's beautiful. She's mine, and I love her.

The thing is, Pete's so hardcore compared to me which is funny.. ha, that little bastard. That...adorable, cute bastard... that little hot- No! Pete's my friend. I'm not going to let that pound me in the back anymore. Finally, I felt myself fall asleep, slowly, then all at once.

........

I opened my eyes groggily. I took a tired glance at the clock that hung upon our wall. Holy smokes. That's early.

The room looked a bit more empty than usual, which was probably because I was, once again, tired. Ugh. That's me in one sentence, Once I wake up, I can't go back to sleep. I stood up and dragged myself into the bathroom, carrying a slight headache with me. And right when I reached my destination, immidiatly, tears hit my eyes as I screamed.

I was shaking heavily now, I raced to my room, grabbed my phone, ran quickly back to the bathroom, and helped up the woman laying in the bathtub with a single knife in her stomach, while at the same time, shakily dialing the ambulance, getting the wrong number the first time. Me? I was in fucking tears, I was making loud noises, and I never knew I could be in such a huge mess in just a snap. I was whimpering, "It's okay baby, the ambulance is coming, you'll be okay," And I then went to screaming, "PLEASE BE OKAAAY!!" I sobbed way too hard. I give up being a man, forget that permanent shitty plan, I was fucking miserable now. After calling the ambulance, I quickly dialed Pete's number, shaky, once again getting the number wrong the first time. I'm breathing uneven, heavy breathes, "Pick up pick up pick pick up," so many tears strolled down my face. Finally, he picked up.

"Ey, Pat! 'Sup, man?"

My voice was more shaky than ever, "Help."

I hung up.