"She was wild like the endless poppy fields, shimmery like fire under an infinite, cloudless sky. And she was wild like a bloody lioness."
I was inside his mind. I held a book of all he really was inside, in my hands, and I felt like a stranger daring myself, crossing some barrier, intruding private property. Would he take notice that I had been stupid enough to go snooping through his things? I had read half way through his entries. It was a rather thick notebook, with writing dating back to several weeks prior to us meeting. He did not write consistently, some entries were just a single word, while other were pages in length. He wrote a lot about the mafia business and, at times, on his childhood. He had random thoughts from time to time. But my name, particularly, was one which frequented the pages quite often. Although he described different women in some entries, there were some descriptions related to me that I faintly remembered. The way in which he referred to me was quite a shock. Gerard either exaggerated my beauty, grace, and sexuality, but in other entries I was implied to be some otherworldly creature destroying his fragile world.
I think I fall in love with anyone who shows me their soul. This world is so guarded and fearful. I appreciate rawness so much. As I keep flipping through the notebook, I had not realized that I was crying. My face was warm, trailed with salty tears, eyes swollen. Gerard was, in fact, a man of surprises. He was not only some crazy drug addict I happened to encounter one night. He was a being who pondered many thoughts at a philosophical level, it kept me wondering. He didn't just drink and smoke to numb his suffering, he did the such to become aware of himself in his own mind, with his own thoughts.
Placing the notebook back on the table where I found it, I decided to write Gerard a note.
My delicate flower,
You and I- We're not much poets, but criminals. It is 5am and I want nothing more but to be hidden inconspicuously in the crevices of your arms, to have my legs intertwining with yours, and our fingers locked together ever so delicately. It is 5am and the only thoughts that fill my mind, are those of you and how much I need you by my side. Even if you come "home" late and I'm already asleep, just whisper in my ear one little thought you had today. Because I love the way you look at the world. And I'm so happy I get to be next to you and look at the world through your eyes~ xoxo, frankie
Taking a swig of some cheap booze, I rolled on the bed, clutching my sides which were not bruised anymore, and thought for some time. I had never told Gerard that I loved him- at least not in the most serious of ways. But even then, never had he cared to utter those three stupid words. Never.
At this point, I had little control over what spilled into my head and consequently gushed out of my mouth. I was so immersed in my own pool of exhaustion that anything I said aloud to myself could be counted as word vomit. I only thought of him. He had come thundering into my life without warning, as unannounced as a hurricane and as pleasantly surprising as a summer storm. And he was so much more than words could describe, but there were dozens there to try anyways. It didn't seem right, that he should be stowed away in the earth like everybody else. He was so much more than everybody else, and I felt a mild pit in my stomach at the prospect of him having the same end as them. Gone and forgotten.
Bringing my knees up to my bare chest, the linen sheets covering me, I laid there quietly and still, blinking away tears. With sleep wanting to come my way and cease the pain I inflicted onto myself, I said aloud, "Maybe time can fix us."
"Maybe time can fix you."
His unexpected arrival spiked the beating of my heart, and I felt it thumping against my ribcage at a million. My eyes shot open. How long had he been here without saying a word? His voice was a melody that it seemed I had not heard of for ages. I remained silent.
"Missed me?"
I dared not to answer right away. He took a seat at the end of the bed, his back to me. I took a quick breath to at the very least sound a tad bit sane, "Maybe I missed you, I'm not sure... I haven't felt much of anything lately."
He sat on the edge of the bed for some time, I kept my eyes closed. I felt his weight get off the bed and heard muffled footsteps coming towards me. He laid next to me, arms wrapping around my small body, bringing me closer to him. He gently turned my face to his and looked me square in the eyes before closing his. He whispered in my ears, his lips moving were like faint kisses by the side of my head.
"Stop saying it's okay when your soul's bleeding. Stop trying to dodge knives that always end up in the depths of your heart. Stop looking to the ceiling hoping that tears won't overflow. Stop taking people's shit. Walk away. Fuck them all."
With that, he placed a kiss on my lips and we stayed there together. My bad heart and his bad head. I hate to make assumptions, but I think he did love me after all...
