One sided Frerard. Suicide warning. Frank writes Gerard a suicide letter confessing his love. "He was alone, with only the chains of his unrequited love for company."
I`d call you Gee, but you don`t seem to really care for that childhood nickname anymore, do you? Not from me anyway. Not from anyone unless it comes out of her painted red smirk.
It`s Frank here, you remember that batshit crazy kid with the floppy Mohawk and shit eating grin you used to be friends with. Frankie? You do remember me, don`t you? How are you doing? Good? That`s great. Nice to hear it. Well actually it isn`t. Me? Well I`m not going to lie for once, I`m not so good.
Ya know, I`ve been trying to write this little letter explaining things to you for nearly two months now, but the words just don`t come out right. I can see them, hear them, feel them even, flitting across my deluded mind, poisoning all rational thoughts, demanding me, screaming at me to write them down in my untidy, childlike scrawl. Many times I`ve stayed up all night slaving away trying find the words to make you understand, but they never came to me. I guess this sloppy excuse will have to do, because I am done.
You always were the writer though, weren’t you? Me, I was just the hyper ball of energy that everyone wanted to but couldn’t ignore. I have no special qualities to offer you. You have a gift, Gerard, you really do. The way you can make the words of your stories and lyrics flow together to create something so raw and heartfelt. It is magical Gerard. A shame you don`t see it that way, such a god damn shame that you don`t see yourself the way I do. Or did anyway.
I can still remember the first time I read one of your songs. It was summer, around noon. On a boiling hot Tuesday afternoon the two of us were sat chatting in your mother’s carefully tended garden, after being warned not once, but twice not to play football too close to the rosebush. A single sheet of crumpled a4 tumbled from your jeans picket, remarkably really seeing how tight they were. The blue denim hugged your milky white legs perfectly, clung to you in all the right places. How you never noticed my longing glances ill never know. But I`m getting sidetracked.
Your face flushed red as I picked up the folded paper and read the slanting words of love and hope. When you looked into my wide eyes that day, I thought for one minute, just one minute that you felt the same way I did. My face lit up like a beacon.
But it was for her.
Not me, it was never for me.
I remember lots of things Gerard, things you probably have long forgotten. Like the countless days we spent in out superhero pjs curled up together in front of the TV or hunched over comics when we were bright, happy little children of six and eight. Our first ever gig together when we were fourteen and sixteen. We snuck out to the local alternative club with your older friends and fake ids and stayed out all night just feeling the music. I woke up in a pile of each of our sweat and vomit, your skinny arms wrapped protectively around me. I almost told you then, because of the hangover. Maybe I should have, I don`t know.
Maybe things would have turned out different.
It hurts to know that I remember these simple trivial moment in time, forever etched into my mind while you can`t even bear to lock at me anymore. Do you remember any of our precious memories? Do you even want to? Or have you forced them away into the black pit of other unwanted reminders of the person you used to be. Deny it all you want, Gerard, but she changed you.
My favourite memory of my time with you though, has to be the first and only time when we kissed. I still remember the exact day and time, I can still taste it on my lips. October 31st, my seventeenth birthday. And it was the best gift I have ever received, even though it was the saddest memory I have of what used to be you and me. Nothing compares to it, not even the day you told me that you were planning on spending the night with her. I gotta tell you though, that stung as well. We always tried new things together, we did everything together once. It should have been me and you Gerard.
If I close my eyes u can still see the heartbreaking look of horror on your face as I kissed you, taste the disgust you so obviously felt on my tongue. I loved you with every figure of my being, with every beat of my steadily breaking heart. Couldn’t you see that?
Why didn`t you see?
In those few moments, my heart shattered. I saw the fire in your eyes, not of passion and love, but of hate. I tried to laugh it off, the way you had when I had came out, but it was too late.
I lost you.
I know I never had you, but I lost you all the same. To her.
Well have a nice life Gerard. I may sound bitter, and I was once, but not anymore. I`m fine. Honest. Have a great life with her, I here you are planning to propose. Bert will make a great best man. You`ll wear a fancy suit and say some vows and live happily ever after with her. The happily ever after I had dreamt of since I was fourteen. Heck, who knows? You might even be a daddy someday soon. Good luck, I`d love it if you maybe named one after me, but I know you won`t. Why would you want a reminder of the filthy disgusting faggot you used to now?
I`ve used that word a lot, haven’t I? Why? Like why did I have to be so stupid and fall for you? Why couldn’t I just forget it like you had? You made it look so easy to walk away from a lifelong friendship, to walk away from me.
Not that there ever was an us.
And lastly, most importantly, why did you pick her over me?
It doesn`t matter anymore. Soon I won’t have to watch you droll over her anymore. By the time you have finished reading this parting letter, that is if you even open it, I will be long gone. I`ll be at peace, finally not longing for your touch. I wonder if you`ll miss me. A part of me wants you to, but I know deep down you won’t.
I wonder what it will be like, dying. In the movies you always see some kind of bright shining light and a long tunnel and angelic harp music plays. I don`t want that. I hope there are no angels wherever it is I`m headed. None of them could compare to you. Do you think it will hurt? I`m not very good with pain, but for once I`m not worried. Compared to the heartache you caused me it will be like a little pinprick.
I hope this letter finds you well, Mikey agreed to give it to you. Later today, as I slowly let go of the railings and drop to my end, I wonder what I will think off. Will memories of us flash by in a blur, or will there simply be nothing? I hope the final thing I see before I die is your smile. It`s been a long time.
Goodbye, Gerard. I hope you get the happily ever after you deserve. If only it wasn`t with her.
A lanky, mousy haired teen strolls towards a distressed looking boy of around the same age. The younger hands him a crumpled piece of paper, written in his untidy hand and walks away to where his heartache would end, and where another’s would begin. He wonders briefly as he prepares to step from the ledge, if he would be missed, he silently almost wishes that the raven haired man would stop him, but he knows that he is alone.
Alone, with only the battered and rusted chains of his unrequited love for company.