I just want to feel numb.
'Here comes the bartender with my poison of choice' I thought to myself as a thin blonde brought me straight whiskey and leaned up against the counter. Her skimpy black leather skirt and exposing shirt didn't seem to fit her kind expression.
"That stuff is pretty strong, you know?" she asked and I nodded while downing it in one quick gulp. It burned my throat a little, I had already had a few too many to count and while the flavor seemed to disappear with each passing drink, the lingering effect it had wasn't pleasant.
I slammed the glass down on the counter and rested my head awkwardly in my hands; the alcohol was slowly starting to get to me. I bit my lip and suppressed pained sobs knowing that I was spiraling deeper into a hole that I had trouble getting out of to begin with. Gerard was gone, the only person that really helped me through the dark tunnel I was in had been blown away by an unforgiving metal revolver.
He was the light at the end of the tunnel, but that light had burned out and it was pitch black now, whichever way I went would lead to darkness.
"I just can't Gerard! I can't do it, I'm not strong enough." I whimpered into his shirt, hugging him close to me. He smelled like soap and cigarettes, but that scent seemed so comforting.
"Yes you can, Bob. I know it hurts having your mom die, it has to be, but drinking isn't going to solve it and you have to understand that!" he shifted and sat up suddenly, looking at me with eyes full of hurt. My whole world had come crashing down when she died and he was all that I had left, I had a feeling he was mad at me though.
"I-I'm sorry." I said, starting to choke on the lump in my throat as I held back tears, "I just want to f-feel numb again." I could feel his warm fingers wipe the tears from my eyes and I felt him get closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder as we sat on the couch together in the dark living room of his house.
"No you don't. Don't ever say that! Don't you ever say it again!" he yelled at me, getting heated as I winced at the decibel of his voice. Mikey may be like this, but Gee definitely wasn't. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, its just-Elena, when she died and I wasn't there for her and I wanted to. It's not always a good thing to be unfeeling, especially when you know you're supposed to be feeling the brunt of the pain." He sighed. I knew he was silently crying even though he was trying to hide it.
I knew it hurt him to talk about his grandma Elena, she was one of the kindest women I have ever met but at the same time she knew not to take shit from Gerard. That, I think, is one of the things that helped him the most and even though she isn't here anymore, I know that his thoughts of her help too.
I wish I had someone like that in my life, I guess it was Gerard. I looked up at him and saw the basic outline of his jaw in the dark room. "Thank you, for everything," I whispered, but he had already cried himself to sleep.
So here I was, drinking myself into a numb and unforgiving state and hoping that Mikey wouldn't leave me alone and depressed like his brother did. I needed him, I needed someone. Or I knew I would die.