Day nine.
Where are you going, Gerard? Where are you when you're out past midnight? What's happening wherever you are? Why aren't you sleeping with me anymore?
I feel lonelier and lonelier every time I wake up and you're gone. Speaking of loneliness, I have no one but you. My mom couldn't care less about me anymore. She stopped caring when I told her about you, and so did the rest of my family. I gave up everything for YOU. It's you, Gerard! I care more about you than my family! I care more about you than my-fucking-self, you selfish asshole! Don't you realize that? All I wanted was you. All I needed was you. All I ever asked for was you. But that's just too much to ask, isn't it?
Come home, Gerard. I just want to hold you again. I just want to curl up in bed with you and fall asleep in your arms. I just want to kiss you and hug you and talk to you. I just want you.
I think you read my last letter, because I left it on the counter and this morning it was gone. I don’t know if you actually did, because you didn’t give me a sign. But it’s only the two of us in this house, so if you didn’t take it off the counter, who did? So you obviously read it, and to prove my point that you don’t want me around, you didn’t give me a fucking sign. I told you that you didn’t even have to speak, yet you still haven’t communicated with me in any shape or form. So you don’t need or want me.
I love you, Gerard. But I really really really really really can’t take another day of missing you. I need you.
I need you. I need you so fucking much, it hurts.
Please, baby, don’t hurt me like this anymore. I’m trying to hard to keep you sane, to keep myself sane. I remember how you were before we dated. There’s only one word to describe it: insane. Don’t you remember the things you said and did when you drank? Remember the pain you went through? Remember how amazing you felt when you could finally say you felt sane again? I don’t want to watch you fall back to where you used to be. You were so close to killing yourself with all the alcohol you consumed, and, forgive me for bringing this back up, the drugs.
I still love you more than anything in the universe. I still want to make you flower crowns like I used to (have I told you how gorgeous you look in them? If not, you look extremely gorgeous in them). I still want to make pancakes with you in the morning. I still want to feel you wrap your arms around my waist and rest your chin on my shoulder while I flip the pancakes. I still want to cuddle up with you and watch Disney movies and drink tea and have a bowl of popcorn whilst we sit in our fuzzy pajamas and a big, cozy blanket. I still want to spend nights with you in our pillow forts. I still want to hold your hand at home and in public. I still want to call you mine. I still want to go to the park and throw flower petals in the pond with you. I still want to go on dates with you, even if it’s gazing at the stars all night. I still want to have tickle fights. I still want to kiss you. I still want to sit on your lap and kiss you hard. I still want to share ice cream with you.
Dammit, Gerard. I still want you.
