Your Memory Will Carry On (Mikey Way)

Gerard

I could hardly sleep that night. Sleeping in Mikey's bed was comforting, since it smelled like him and there were so many blankets. But yet, I still had trouble sleeping. I think I'm starting to remember bits and pieces, but at the same time I think I'm just telling myself I remember stuff because people keep telling me stories. I feel like I'm inserting myself into my own memories. I feel like I don't belong in my own thoughts.
Every time I'd start to fall asleep I'd think about the way I looked standing next to Gerard in all the pictures and how Frank said I was in love with him. We looked like a couple. I just don't feel that way about Gerard. I just don't feel the way that Frank says I do and now I'm confused. Did he lie to me? Has Gerard had feelings for me this whole time and is using my amnesia as a way to insert himself into my life? No, of course not. In the hospital Gerard said that I don't have a boyfriend. The guys wouldn't be so manipulative and malicious to use my memory loss as a way to mess with my head and force me to be someone they want me to be. But how would I know? I don't know right from wrong- and that scares me.
When Gerard and Mikey were fighting, Gerard said I was his girlfriend. Yet not a single way he acted towards me since the accident made me feel like he loved me like that. If anything, it's Mikey. Mikey has been the one who has literally held my hand and defended me behind closed doors. Gerard said that Mikey was upset that he didn't get to take my virginity and that all makes me wonder if Mikey has feelings for me. But what the fuck is going on with Gerard? Does he love me? Do I love him? I don't want to look at him because I know he's seen me and held me in ways that no other person on this earth has... and it's worse because I don't remember it. I can use tomorrow as an excuse to get all the answers, since everyone promised to answer every question I have.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost 3 in the morning. I decided that I would take a warm shower and I could shut my reeling mind off. It helped a little bit, but I couldn't help but trace the lines on my arms and legs from where I must have cut myself at some point. There were so many of them, and some of them looked like they had stitches too. They were old enough to be completely healed, but still slightly raised. They were old. I don't remember taking anything sharp to my skin, however something feels familiar about standing in a shower and looking at my wrists. When did I do this to myself?
There's something so utterly devastating about waking up and being someone that you're not... at least not anymore.
I brushed my hair and put my pajamas back on, then went back to Mikey's room. I glanced down the hallway and saw Gerard sleeping on the couch since my mom was sleeping in his bed, and Mikey was sleeping on the floor, since I'm in his bed. Warmth filled my heart because I realized how much both of those boys cared about me.
I fell asleep shortly after climbing back into bed.
***
Being alone with Gerard wasn't as weird as I thought it was going to be. We both slept in and got a late start to the day, so we skipped lunch and went to a thrift store to get a few cheap pieces of clothing to hold me over until I was able to meet with school administration and clean out my dorm room and get my clothes back. My mom gave me money to get clothes, but Gerard insisted on buying them instead.
We laughed a lot together. On the drive between locations Gerard would look at me quickly before turning back to watch the road. His smile made me smile.
We were driving to dinner when the intro to Nothing Else Matters by Metallica started playing on the radio. I love Metallica and I know every word to this song. Like something out of a stupid movie, Gerard and I both reached for the volume dial at the same time. Our hands touched and I looked up at him while I actually turned up the volume. He left his hand there in midair, and so did I. He looked at me as he laced his fingers through mine.
"I love this song." I said, still looking at him.
"I know," he said, afterwards turning to look at the road. "This is our song."
My breath caught in my throat as I let out a breathless "oh". The lyrics started and Gerard and I both sang along, but I let the words sink in deeper than they usually did, hoping I could let the song explain our relationship. As I was belting out the lyrics, I could see Gerard looking at me out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes I thought he was looking at me for important parts but I thought I was reading too much into the situation. He never let go of my hand.
***
Trust I seek, and I find in you