I didn't mean it, Gerard. You know that. I don't hate you. I love you.
I'm a horrible person and I'm so sorry. I suck. You can hit me again. I am the worst boyfriend ever and I wish I could take that all back. I hate myself for saying that, but I don't hate you one bit. You know I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't.
Remember what I said? I said that if I ever tell you I hate you, I'm lying. You're my everything. I love you, okay? I promise.
I know I'm terrible. I think I understand why you don't love me anymore. I'm an awful boyfriend and I say the most disgusting things to you but I don't mean them. I never mean the horrible things I say. I love you. I hate when you're mad at me. I know you are because today, when you came home, you completely shut me out. The usual, but it felt worse because we've been talking at least a little bit... Until today.
You stumbled in through the door and I tried to hold you up before you collapsed. But you pushed me away, grunting, and tried navigating your way through the house. I trailed behind you, shakily saying your name.
"Shut up, you pathetic, whiny fucking slut," you finally slurred icily.
I didn't know how to react to that, and I still don't. I kind of wanted to cry, but I bit my lip. I won't let myself cry in front of you anymore.
I know I'm pathetic and whiny. You can't expect me to not be, though. I'm trying to help you. I'm trying to get through to you. I have no other way to express my feelings to you besides writing. But you didn't need to say it.
I'm sorry I never cease to let you down and that I'm not telling you what you want to hear. It's not that simple, Gerard. I'm not going to lie to you to make it better. I can't keep it all bottled up anymore, though. Can't you understand that? I can't hold all this in my tiny five-foot-six self anymore. It's more than I can take and I can't share this shit with anyone but you. I have no one else to share it with either way, but I trust you and only you. Why do I fucking trust you again? I shouldn't trust you.
Please don't break my heart anymore, baby. It's already shattered and I can't seem to glue it back together. There's a huge missing piece, and it's you. It's you, Gerard, and it's always been you. I need you back so I can be whole again.
Do me a favor and just don't come home when you're drunk. I don't want insulting, conceited, selfish, trashy Gerard. I want the loving, adorable, charming, sweetheart Gerard that I used to know.
I want the Gerard I love.
