When We Part (on hold)

330 Days

I sat in a circle with fifteen other people. People like I was. They were recounting their tales of recent relapse and sadness, but I knew I was not one of them. I was so independent and free from what held me down before. I wasn't sinking, I was floating. Flying. Everything was so picture-esque and wonderful. Finally, I was on the right track.

"I don't know why," An older woman named Amelia sniffled into her shirt. "I feel so trapped, like a claustrophobe locked in a coffin. How on earth did I fall into this manhole?"

It's not that hard, I thought. Everyones' eyes flashed at me expectantly, and I realized I said it aloud.

"What do you mean?" She asked, staring at me with glassy eyes.

The room was stuffy and hot, seemingly growing hotter the longer I was stared at. My face flushed a bright, blood-red scarlet, and my eyes trailed back down to the floor. God damn it Gerard. Control yourself.

I peered up at her, suddenly feeling right in my chest. She had it rough right now and I didn't.

"Well," I started, "it's never hard to fall. Think about it. Falling in and out of love isn't hard. Tumbling down a hill is easier that climbing it. It's so much harder to pick yourself up, and even when you do, you have to be weary of not descending down your rabbit hole again."

Her face screwed up into a teary mess as on the verge of sobbing, she said, "So this is never going to be better, is it?"

"No no no, that not what I meant," I chuckled nervously. "Whether or not you get better is completely reliant on your actions. It just takes ten times as much effort to put yourself together than to fall apart."

Amelia's face contorted into an almost inhuman expression and small, sputtery squeaking noise left her.

Oh no, oh no. Please don't.

She let loose one last cry and suddenly she was sobbing into her lap. I felt my cheeks grow feverish again as another blushes singed into them. I knew I didn't necessarily cause it, but my words aided in this breakdown. I was asked by the group leader Brendon to leave early. I abided wordlessly.

Still as I walked home, I felt relieved and even happy. I didn't belong there anymore. It wasn't for me. The clouds that blanketed the skies spread so thin that little patches opened up to drain light from their wispy cover. The light filtered down like warm stage lights on my neck. Maybe they were stage lights. Maybe my life was a play with no understudy.

I got to the apartment I shared with Frank, happy to be home. I turned the key into the keyhole and swung open the door.

"Frankie, you're not going to believe what happened at support group today," I chirped happily as the door opened. "This lady--"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Frank was sitting on the couch with a girl. She had cropped blonde hair, and a delicate exterior. She had her hands tangled in his hair, and her lips on his.

Emily.

"Frank?!" I exclaimed.

He tore himself from her group and stared up at me with shocked, fearful eyes.

"Gerard please," he pleaded, "jut listen to me. It's not what you think--"

"Not what I think?" I asked incredulously. "Not what I think?! That the person I hate most in the world is sitting on the lap of the person I love most in the world?! Not to mention kissing her!"

Emily smirked up at me with icy eyes.

"I thought you said he was at support group today baby," she breathily whispered in his ear. She looked back up at me and trailed her lips down his neck without breaking eye contact. He ripped himself from her and smacked her across the face. A loud crack echoed in the room.

Frank looked terrified at his own hands, and Emily clutched her red cheek. I felt anger welling up inside my chest. Anything happy from that day was now replaced with bitter hatred.

"GET OUT!" I screamed at her. "GET OUT AND IF YOU EVER FUCKING COME BACK I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

She scrambled up off the floor and ran for the door, slamming it shut as she left.

"Gerard!" Frank exclaimed. "What the hell--?"

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I turned to him. "JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

My lungs hurt from screaming and I hurled my fist into the wall. It broke through the drywall, leaving a hole the size of a coffee mug. I stomped to the door and left.

Frank ran after me, shouting down the hall, "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"

I ignored him and continued. I walked and walked until my mind didn't know where I was going but my feet did. They took me to Old Tom's Pub. I used to go there all the time before I got sober. It's was where Frank and I had our first real date. Suddenly, i understood.

I walked in and sat down at the bar. Tom looked up to find me there.

"No faggot boyfriend?" He asked gruffly.

I shook my head angrily. "None at all."

He nodded and poured me a shot of whiskey. I downed it in one gulp.

"Another one Tom," I said. "And keep it coming, I'm going to be here for a while."

A/N

:(((( uh oh

Sorry it took me so long to update, it's finals season coming up and I have a huge transiberian orchestra concert to stress over. More frequent updates to follow.

If you liked it please make sure to add this to your reading lists, vote, and comment!

Thanks for reading!
-maddie