'The first time I saw him I was only seventeen. He was nineteen and recruiting for the army. I was kicked out of school the year before and told that I was a lost cause. My parents had given up on me already. All because I was the troublemaker. The disappointment. The failure. The class clown. The list goes on forever.
He didn't see any of that in me though. He saw potential. Ambition. Drive. Focus. And his list goes on forever. He wasn't like the other soldiers with him. They were glorifying the war. With all the usual fighting for my flag bullshit. He told me the truth. That war was horrible. That there would be good moments with friends you find. And that it's those friends you end up fighting for in the end.
After that day it was months before I saw him again. I never forgot him though. He had believed in me and I've never been able to forget it. His words went through my mind almost daily. I never rushed into anything though. Joining the army can be a big thing. At least, for me it was. Even if nobody around me could see it I had my whole life ahead of me. I had choices and a future. Joining the army could mean the death of me along with any past hopes and dreams.
The day that I turned eighteen I went to the recruitment centre. I didn't need parental permission to join anymore and I was sure of what I wanted. I wanted that sense of belonging. I wanted a reason to wake up every morning. And I wanted a reason to better myself. He was there again.
To my surprise he had recognised me. He was as kind as he had been months before. His belief in me still there. It was that day that I learned his name. Gerard Way. I liked the way it felt when saying it. I liked the way it sounded when saying it. But I definitely liked it more when he said it. He talked me through everything that would be in my near future if I went through with my decision.
By the time I got home that night I was a soldier. Almost. My training was to start in the next few weeks which meant that I had to leave home. For the first day in three years I had been wished a happy birthday. Gerard had taken me to a coffee shop and bought me a cupcake in place of a birthday cake. We got to know more about each other at that small coffee shop that I had never noticed before. Both of my parents were passed out on the couch when I arrived home. Each still loosely clinging to their bottles of liquid poison.
I never told them I was leaving. I left a note and was out of state by the time they read it. A tiny part of me had hoped one of them would call. Just to make sure I was safe. But my phone remained as silent as always. That day, the day that I left was the last time I saw either of my parents.
The next few months I had no outside contact. The only people I spoke to were the boys I was now living with. I was always terrified of speaking to the training officers. They intimidated me. That had never happened to me before. I was used to pushover teachers who let you away with everything. I guess I was dumb for assuming the training officers would be the same.
A few short months after that I was sent out on tour. Gerard was with me on the way over. He calmed me down and talked me through my nerves the whole time. A few of my friends from training started joking about. Saying that I was in love with Gerard. They didn't believe me when I said I don't fall in love. I had simply been hurt too many times to trust someone enough to love them.
At first there was no fighting. It was just like training. All of us hanging out, just with more work and the occasional airstrike. I grew close with everyone in that time. For the first time in my life I knew what family was. I grew closer to Gerard too. He wasn't like the others though. They felt like family to me, but it felt wrong to think of him like family. The others continued to joke about me being in love with Gerard and I continued to deny it.
And then we were sent out into the fighting. The first few times we got lucky and everyone made it back. None of us knew how to deal with it when we lost someone for the first time. We didn't speak to each other for days afterwards. Each trying to cope in our own ways. It felt like I had lost a brother. In a way, I guess I did. It never got easier, losing someone.
Gerard was always there to comfort me though. He hid his own sadness to cure mine. The others thought that he was heartless. Only because he hid his sadness from everyone. He put on a brave face in an attempt to cheer everyone else up. He only let his sadness show late at night. When everyone else was sleeping. I would hear him crying some nights.
On one of those nights I felt the need to comfort him. I went to his bunk and spoke with him for a while. I didn't remember falling asleep, but let's just say out sergeant wasn't too happy to find us cuddling the next morning. That only drew more jokes out of everyone else. Eventually I stopped denying them. Not because I agreed with them. But because they clearly weren't going to listen to me. I noticed that Gerard had stopped denying it too. I never thought much of it at the time though.
Most nights after that first one I wound up sleeping in his bunk. Or he would be sleeping in mine. I liked it. The fear had completely set in at that point. The fear of airstrikes or other attacks. The fear of death, to put it simply. That fear was gone when we were together. I could sleep for the full night. I didn't have any nightmares either. I had forgotten what it was like to sleep normally.
Things were good for a few months. We had a while with no fighting again. I just spent that time getting closer to Gerard. He told me that he was planning on leaving the army. Going home and trying to live a normal life. I was invited to join him. After seeing what war was like I decided that I definitely wanted out.
We planned for a while. Making sure that we were doing the right thing. Then we decided the date that we would leave. We gave notice and were cleared to leave. Everything was set in place. There was one last fight we were sent out to. We were supposed to go home that night. Only one of us did.
He was shot. It wasn't an immediate death but there was no saving him. I stopped to try and help him. He died in my arms that day. His last words to me were 'I love you.' Those three words have been running through my mind non-stop since that day. I realised why he had stopped denying loving me. I hated that I had never noticed. The only thing that I hated more was that I hadn't noticed that I felt the same. I never knew what to say to him and now I'll never get the chance to say something.' I looked up at the woman who now knew my life story. I had been sent to her by Gerard's brother. He was worried about me. Said I probably had PTSD from the war and losing Gerard.
When she spoke to me she was calm. Professional. 'Is there anything else you want to say?'
'I don't fall in love. But I fell in love with Gerard Arthur Way. And I'll never forget it.'
