Summertime (Frerard)

15: The Two Of Us And A Cute Little Cup Of Cyanide

What had happened with Gerard just hadn't be able to leave my head over the past few days, thoughts of him and his lips and more importantly what he could do with them, littered my brain like stars in the sky. He was impossible; impossible at being perfect, and it was really starting to irritate me, but in a good way. A good way because I knew I could enjoy this, he'd give me the rights to his lips, and that both confused me and meant the world to me, as most things regarding Gerard seemed to have developed a certain bittersweet habit of doing.

Kissing Gerard hadn't be something I'd expected to happen, but something I wouldn't change nonetheless, it was just unexpected perfection that brewed out of nowhere and something became something that mattered, because now it matter, we mattered, if there even was a 'we', but we mattered and we mattered a hell of a lot; I'd managed to decide upon that one for myself.

It did, however, do nothing to help decrease the increasing number of thoughts I had about Gerard, but I guess maybe they weren't quite so bad right now, since they were kind of tangible and less stalkerish, there just was the fact that after we'd kissed we hadn't really talked at all. We'd just found ourselves enjoying a comfortable silence and one another's company in a world collapsing around us. He was awfully reluctant to let me go, though, and the same could be said for me - we both needed one another more than either of us could express, and it was both destroying and perfecting our reality at the same time.

Mikey's words didn't quite leave my head though. It was a few words in particular: 'He just thinks you're pretty.' I was just scared that feelings Gerard and I had shared weren't exactly mutual. I began to in fact wonder if he could even feel anything at all for me, with all that madness and psychopathy that clouded that head of his, but I couldn't believe anything but what we had felt was mutual.

Mutual was just assumed: it seemed like sparks- fuck, maybe even love. But I didn't know what love felt like, I didn't know at all, but the close thing I had to love (if it even existed, for that matter) was Gerard Way, and there was no way in hell that I was going to let that- let him go.

Even when we were just pressed up against one another, wasting the world away, it felt a lot better than anything had ever felt. It's what I'd imagine being high would be like, because all the imperfections had been washed away in a flood of all things Gerard and nothing seemed to matter except the two of us. Everything was euphoric and painted in an addictive light of momentary and selfish perfection. Perfection was a selfish concept from whatever angle you looked at it; it was selfish to desire, selfish to envy, selfish to have.

It just felt like the two of us were the only people in the world. It felt like flying without the need to ever come down, but I did have to come down. We had to leave and then the reality came back to both of us; Gerard had to go take his medication and I had to get home early to avoid having my ribs shattered by my 'father', and then everything didn't seem quite so perfect anymore. Because this was real life and nothing ever quite was, but you believe me, I was fine with pretending. I was especially fine with pretending I was in a bubble away from this universe with Gerard.

And I think, I think it's the perfect moments, no matter how small they are keep us going through everything else, because they make it worthwhile. Gerard makes it worthwhile for me, even when nothing else can, and I think everyone needs someone like that, or the whole world will surely go insane.

Gerard makes everything worth it, and I really do hope it's not as Mikey says, and that it's the same for him. There's a part of me that tells me that he does though, and I just don't know if that's instinct or optimism yet, but I guess time will tell, but I never was the patient type, yet this time, everything seems to be different. Not bad, not good... just okay. 

Okay was more than okay with me, though.

And for once I find myself content with the ever ticking clock leading into endless states of reverie and nothingness, because I have Gerard to guide me through, and I wonder whatever else a royal mess like me could ever want from life.