It was too good to be true, wasn't it?
I thought you'd stay. I thought you'd try to stop.
Just when I thought it was going to change, you up and left me here at 4:30 in the goddamned morning.
I was sleeping and was unwillingly woken by you practically tearing the house apart.
There you were, boxers and coffee-stained teeshirt, slamming cabinets, throwing and breaking shit (like my heart), cursing, banging your fists on the table when you couldn't find what I know you were looking for.
You yelled at me. You kept asking where the fuck I put those damned bottles and screaming about how you specifically told me not to touch them.
I began to cry, saying how they were gone. I told you I poured them out. Do you really think I'd lie to you?
But I guess honesty didn't matter to you.
You threw the back door open, setting the alarm off and you ran out. I could hear you screaming, still looking for the bottles.
I couldn't move, Gerard. The alarm screeched in my ears and I fell to my knees and I felt like the fucking world was caving in.
The cops showed up, probably due to the alarm and neighbors calling them about the commotion. They found me on the floor sobbing and the alarm still sang its song.
I could barely understand what they were saying, but from what I did hear, they thought I had a breakdown and that that was why the house was trashed.
"No!" I screamed. "It was... It was him."
I pointed to a cracked picture of us on the floor. It was the one of me on your back, both of us laughing.
That brought back too many memories. I thought I really was going to have a breakdown. I could feel myself slipping into a panic attack as I went numb and could barely breathe.
One cop took off to get you and the other stayed with me. After all, if he didn't, I would've been alone. Alone isn't good, Gerard. I don't like being alone.
The alarms began to sound louder than they were. Panic attacks do that to you, you know. All your senses work stronger than usual.
Eventually, the other cop came back with you and I immediately flung myself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder.
Bad idea. You pushed me away. You pushed me away when I needed you most, Gerard! You pushed me the fuck away when all I needed for serenity was you! You pushed me away!
Before the police could figure you were abusive (does it count that you hit me once?), I pulled myself together and acted like my confidence was regained, telling them that we'd just had a fight. After a series of questions, they finally left.
I easily could've sold you out. Easily. But I didn't. I would never let them take you.
But I think I'm becoming afraid of you. When you stepped towards me, I moved back defensively.
You swore you'd buy more bottles. I promised myself I'd keep trying to save you.
All I want right now is you next to me in bed. I could curl up against your body, nuzzling my head into your shoulder, and you'd hold me just like you used to. Or we could do... other things. But for now, I'd rather just fall asleep, tangled in the blankets with you.
I don't think you'll ever know what it's like to feel like this, because I will never, ever, ever stop loving you. Every bit of love in my heart belongs to you. No one else at all. And I don't need all your love, I don't think. I just need at least some.
It's only been eighteen hours since we last kissed. It was midnight then. At twelve, you wanted me. At 4:30, you didn't.
Make up your mind.
Because if you don't want me, I'm good as dead without you.
