FicWad

My foot taps impatiently of its own accord underneath the smooth, white tablecloth. A glass of untouched water and a basket of bread sticks sits in front of me. I check my silver wristwatch again. 8:30, it reads. He was half an hour late, to be exact. "Calm down Frank,"I think to myself, willing myself to be reassured that Gerard hadn't stood me up. "He'll show up. I grantee it."
8:50 comes and goes, and my heart feels like a piece of heavy, cold, hard stone had been chipped away, piece by piece, with every passing second. Gerard had failed to show up. I push my chair back and stand up, brushing my pants off, slamming a 15 dollar tip down on the table next to the water for the asshole waiter who hadn't even showed up. I leave quickly, not wanting the other people in the restaurant to see the hurt that was quickly growing on my face.
After all, this wasn't the first time it had happened.


I pat the empty, black space on the bed next to me, unable to sleep, missing the closeness and the heat that used to come from him. I close my eyes slowly and let out a long, deep breath, imagining the way his bare, warm chest would feel beneath my fingertips, splayed out on his upper stomach, the rising and falling of his chest as he breathed, his breath hot on my face. I imagined my hot, flushed cheeks, the way they always would get after a night spent with him, how my brain would be just a garbled mess of thoughts and pure excitement. How he would always drift off to sleep, as if nothing had happened, and me, staying up for another hour or so, to calm down and just lay there and think and savor. How I would always wake up in the morning to find him sitting on the edge of the bed with a bright, toothy smile on his face, while holding a tray of all of my favorite breakfast foods, not having touched anything since he always waiting for me to eat first, like the perfect gentleman.
A tear slips silently down my face.


I stand on the cliff, overlooking the stormy waters, the black ski cap on my head pulled low, shielding my puffy, red eyes from anyone who was looking. Waves crashed against the outlines of the jagged rocks below me. But I don't even notice. Don't even really care. My body is too numb by this point, too numb with pain.
I remember.
It had been all smiles and fun and games. The sun was out, and this now-deserted park was filled with families participating in activities, people walking dogs, and just couples strolling along. We were both standing right on this very cliff, talking and laughing too, just like every other person. Our clasped hands between us, our beaming faces as we looked at each other, unable to imagine our lives without each other, unable to imagine life before each other. I long to reach up and caress his face, to brush a couple of black strands away from his forehead, to tell him I love him one last time, to kiss him, to feel his soft lips moving beneath mine, whispering my name...
With an aching cry, ripped from my throat, from my heart, I crumple to the ground, my body shaking with sobs. I scream, a sound that seems to ripple off the rocks and bounce along with the waves, tears running furiously down my face.
I cannot live without him.


"You okay?" Mikey calls from behind the door, worry laced in his voice. "Ray and I are getting concerned. You've been in there a long time, Frankie."
"Yeah, I'm alright," I manage to choke back, my own voice giving nothing away. None of the aching pain I feel running through my body. "I just need a few more minutes. I'm okay, trust me."
After a short pause, I hear Mikey reply softly with an "okay" and then shuffle quietly back down the hall towards the kitchen, where everyone is waiting. I sit quietly for a minute. Tears continue to course down my face, my eyes feeling puffy and tired. I laugh shakily through the tears. It seems like all I'm doing nowadays is crying, crying my heart out. But I have a right to cry. I do. "Frank?" This time it's Ray, his voice warm and caring, like always. "Are you sure you're okay? Your coffee is getting cold."
"Yes," I sigh, my voice raw, thick with tears. "I am honestly okay. I promise, I'll be there in a minute. Honest."
"Yeah, okay. Sure," comes the reply.
I hiccup in response and then move to get up off the floor. A sharp pain digs into my right hip, and I pause, moving my hand to poke around in my jeans pocket. A brown slip of parchment comes away in my hand, and I stare at it for a few seconds, before slowly and carefully unwrapping it.
It's a letter, of some sort.
And at the top of the parchment, were the words "My love, Frankie."
My brain numbly registers the familiar scrawl, the familiar nickname, before a cry reverberates out of my mouth, coming from somewhere deep in my chest, and I sink back down on the floor, the tears coming again, faster this time.
No words can explain how much pain I'm feeling, how much I wish I could take everything back and rewind.


That night, I dream of Gerard.
I mean, I have actually been dreaming of Gerard ever since, but this one just felt different. Felt significant.
In this dream, Gerard is surrounded by this hazy cloak of violet. He's wearing a white tunic, the ones you see in those really cheesy Roman movies. But on Gerard, it just looked plain good.
He smiles sadly at me. “Hey Frankie,” he whispers softly to me. I fling my arms around his neck and gasp his name, my body shaking. He feels so real, so solid, it is hard to believe it was only just a dream. I cling to him tighter, pinching his tunic and running my hands through his silky hair.
And then it's over.
He steps away from me, and just looks at me, his mouth turning into a sad lopsided smile. “I have to go now. But Frankie, I love you. So much,” he murmurs to me, his eyes glowing.
And then he's gone.
Before i can even say it back.
I wake up in our—my—apartment alone, heat pressing down on me from all sides. The window is shut tightly, even though I could have sworn I left it open before I went to bed last night. I let my head fall back on the steaming pillows and kick the warm covers away from my body.
It had felt so real.


Flashback-
The door to the dingy cafe flies open. A group of giggling high school girls enter, pointing at everything and whispering to each other about every boy they see. I groan internally.
My eyes return to the laptop screen momentarily, my hands clutching the cup of hot chocolate I had bought.
I tap a few letters on the keyboard, my hands flying, and I take a sip of the hot chocolate as I hit send on my email to Ray.
I smile privately to myself.
Someone clears their throat above me.
“Um, if you’re done with that, I can take it,” a shaky, nervous voice says, pale hands fumbling towards the plate in front of me.
I look up and meet the eyes of one of the people who work at the cafe.
It was a guy.
Not just any guy either.
A hot guy.
“Uh, yes,” I reply, stuttering. My eyes find the name tag on his green cafe apron. Welcome to Suzie’s. I am: Gerard, it says, in cute, cursive writing. I imagine a deeply tanned girl with long, painted fingernails, a push up bra, long bleached blonde hair and platform heels bending over gerard’s name tag, writing each letter precisely and carefully. Typical.
Gerard leaves me with a nervous smile, disappearing into the doorway behind the pink counter at the front of the store. Probably creeped out by all the staring I was doing.
Hm. Gerard. It has a nice ring to it.


I kneel on the ground as the heavy rain falls next to me and on me too. I trace the hard, cold letters on the gravestone with my pinkie finger, tears running down my face, bitter cold biting at my uncovered flesh, causing chills to run through me. My lips are chapped and my nose is running.
But it's all worth it.
I slowly trace his name, a painful ache slowly building up inside of me.
It just wasn't fair.
I slowly take the ring out of my pocket and kiss it before laying it down gently on the grave.
I don't even jump as someone lays a hand on my shoulder.
"C'mon," Mikey says softly, his touch gentle.
I bob my head, unable to speak. I stare at the grave a little while longer before I move to get up.
My mind is reeling, unable to process that it has been two years. Exactly two years since.
I quietly shuffle away from the grave with Mikey, taking one last look at the grave before turning back.
I turn my face up towards the sky, the rain melting and washing away my tears, but not my pain, the pain that had always been inside of me for two years.
A flash. And a glimpse.
I start to sob.