Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy
Not Your Average Valentine's Day Card
Instead of a normal Valentine's Day card, Patrick gives Pete a suicide note. Peterick
?Blocked
There is nothing I dread more than Valentine’s Day. It’s a stupid holiday for the people in relationships to flaunt it, and the people without to feel even more alone. But this year will be the last Valentine’s Day I have to encounter. The last day, in general. I don’t care how pathetic it is, but I’ve been contemplating suicide for quite a while now, and the day just fits. Everyone else is all happy, cuddling up with each other and talking about how much they love each other, and I’m going to be on top of a building. Inching closer and closer to the edge. Or something like that. I don’t really know what I’ll do. Jumping is messy, and a bit cliche. I don’t have a gun, so that’s out. Stabbing yourself can fail miserably. So maybe I’ll overdose. Yeah, that sounds pretty good. But I wouldn’t feel right leaving the world without letting him know how I feel. So I’ll tell him, and then walk away as he looks at me with disgust. I don’t think I’ll have the guts to actually verbalize my feelings for him, but I’ll let him know somehow before I go. He at least deserves that. I owe my best friend something before disappearing.
“What are you thinking about?” Before I look over to him, I can hear the frown in Pete’s voice.
Killing myself...
I shrug, “Nothing.”
“Patrick... I can tell something’s wrong...”
I shrug again, “Something’s always wrong.”
He sighs, “Is it this Valentine’s Day depression thing again?”
“Well, it is depressing...”
“Patrick, just because you’re single-”
“Have never had a relationship.” I correct him.
“...Still. Just do something that makes you happy on that day. Trust me, buying someone a bunch of junk doesn’t really make you happy.” he nods over to the big teddybear for his girlfriend, “I mean, she’ll like it and that’s cool and she’ll get me something and that’s cool too but... it’s really not as great as you think. It feels so fake, you know? It’s like.. you’re obligated to.”
I shrug, “It’s not the getting stuff and not getting stuff Pete.. it’s the being alone.”
“I know that... then don’t be alone. You can hang out with me and-”
“No thanks.”
“Then continue to sulk about it. I don’t know what else to tell you Patrick. Other than you’re amazing, and someday you’ll find someone who realizes it.”
“Yeah, okay.” I stand up from Pete’s couch, “I’m gonna go sulk at home.”
He frowns, “No, you can sulk here all you want. You can stay the night...” he bites his lip worriedly.
I shake my head and head towards the door, “Night.”
He sighs, “Night..”
I hate that Pete worries about me. He has every reason to, of course, I just feel guilty. But after tomorrow he won’t have to worry anymore. I kick my shoes off and pull off my jeans before getting into bed and slowly falling asleep.
I decide to write a note to him, because I can’t say it to his face. I just can’t. By the time I get over to his house, he’ll be out with her. I think they’re going to dinner and then a movie, but I wasn’t really paying much attention to his Valentine’s Day plans.
Pete,
First, I want to say that I’m sorry for how much you worry about me. And I’m also sorry about the way in which you won’t have to worry anymore.
I don’t really know how to say this, other than just bluntly saying it: I’m in love with you.
Before you tear this up in disgust, I know you don’t feel the same. I know you’re perfectly happy with her, and that’s fine. I want you to be happy. Because if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you. With that said, you can have all of my stuff, give some to goodwill if you want, whatever.
And, could you please tell my mom I’m sorry and that I love her? Please tell her it’s nothing she did. That she’s an amazing mom, and she shouldn’t blame herself.
Speaking of blame, don’t blame yourself either. This isn’t your fault. I’ve been depressed for a long time, and living just isn’t ideal for me anymore. But hell, with me being in love with you, maybe you’ll be relieved I’m dead.
Happy Valentine’s Day,
Patrick
I fold up the note and stuff it into my pocket before sighing and putting on my shoes. I’ll put this note on his door while he’s with her, then come back and take the large assortment of pills I’ve collected. I drive to his house, almost sickeningly calm. I park the car and turn it off before I put a piece of tape on the folded note, and scribble his name on the outside. I walk up to the door as my hands begin to shake. I put the note on the door, rubbing my thumb over the tape to make sure it sticks when I hear a voice come from behind me.
“Patrick?”
I jump and turn to see Pete and his girlfriend.
“H-Hi...” I shake as Pete’s eyes look from me, to the note on his door.
“What’s that?” he walks over to the door.
Panic floods my chest as he pulls the note off the door, “Pe-Pete don’t!” I try to grab it from him, but stumble clumsily as he moves away, opening it.
I begin to shake more violently as his eyes move back and forth across the page. Before he finishes I have to leave. I have to do this. I turn and run to my car.
“Patrick.” Pete’s voice cracks, “I think we should talk before you do anything.”
I shake my head and get into the car, locking the doors and starting it.
“What?” she looks between the two of us, “What the fuck is going on-”
“Angie, you should go home.” Pete looks to her before walking over to my car and sitting on the hood.
She throws a bit of a fit before getting in her own car and leaving.
I groan as Pete stubbornly crosses his arms. I turn off the car and get out.
“C-Can we n-not have th-the whole “I-I love you I’m just no-not in love with you” t-talk? Be-Because I know o-okay?”
“We do need to talk, Patrick. You... You can’t kill yourself.”
“Why the fuck not?” I ball my fists angrily, “I wasn’t asking your permission I was just fucking letting you know. It was supposed to be after I was already fucking dead!”
“Yeah, well she was driving me nuts so I told her I wasn’t feeling well and brought her back here so she could pick up her car and go home.” he gets down from the hood of my car, “Now, we’re going to talk, whether you want to or not. But we’re going to talk inside, where you can’t run into traffic.” he grabs my arm and pulls me inside.
He locks the door behind us and points to the couch. I sigh and sit down and watch him pace back and forth, getting his thoughts together before turning to me.
“What the fuck where you thinking?” I open my mouth but he continues before I can reply, “Killing yourself? And just so calmly writing a suicide note.” he looks over it, “Your hand wasn’t shaking a goddamn bit Patrick! Can you imagine how I’d feel if I got home in a few hours and read this!? And relieved, is not one of the fucking feelings I’d have Patrick! I’d end up driving to your house and finding your body.” his hands shake violently as he looks over the note more, “How could you? How could you just leave me and everyone else who cares about you behind? And your mother, oh yes I’m going to make you feel guilty as fuck right now, your mother would have died of a broken fucking heart! Can you imagine how she’d fucking feel? OF COURSE SHE’D BLAME HERSELF! SHE’D THINK SHE DIDN’T CALL ENOUGH OR SHE SHOULD HAVE NOTICED YOU WEREN’T OKAY! SHE’D THINK SHE WAS A HORRIBLE MOTHER FOR NOT SEEING THE SIGNS!” he stops himself and takes a deep breathe before he calms down a bit, “And me... I’d feel like the worst fucking friend ever. Because Patrick, I know you have your issues with depression. And I... I’m part of it.” his eyes start to water, “Patrick... Of course I’d blame myself. For not making you stay the night when I was terrified you’d do something stupid. So many nights I stayed up sick with worry. But you know what I’d blame myself for the most?” he walks over to me and puts his hands gently on my shoulders, “For not doing this the first time I wanted to.” he presses his lips against mine.
My eyes widen in shock as he slowly pulls back.
“Goddamn it Patrick I love you. I just.. I never said anything because I was afraid you’d freak out on me... I had no idea...no clue you wanted me too. So I got into many useless relationships hoping I’d find someone to get my mind off you. But it never worked. I always wished it was you hugging me, kissing me, fucking, fucking me...I..fuck Patrick!” he kisses me again, softer this time.
This time I’m able to kiss back, my arms wrapping up against his neck as he slowly sits in my lap for a less awkward position. Our lips move together slowly, and I feel a few of his tears roll onto my cheeks. He pulls back after a few minutes and hugs me tightly, resting his head on my shoulder, “You’re not going home tonight. I’ll fucking slash your tires if I have to.”
My voice shakes, “You want me to stay?”
“Did I not make that clear? I don’t just want you to stay, I’m forcing you.” he looks into my eyes, “Because I love you and I couldn’t stand to lose you.”
“Wh-What about...her?”
He shrugs a shoulder, “I’ll take care of that.”
“H-How?”
“Like this.” he texts out a message and shows it to me.
Bad day for this, and I’m sorry about that. But things aren’t really working out. It’s nothing you did or anything, I just recently found out the person I’ve been in love with for years feels the same so... I hope you understand, if not...well then tell you’re friends I’m an evil douchebag and move on.
I laugh softly at the text, “You know you’ll be the evil douchebag, right?”
He shrugs, “I don’t care, I was polite. And it’s true.” he kisses my cheek, “Now, about this note? Don’t you fucking do that to me. Because if you kill yourself, you can bet your ass I’m right behind you.”
I look down, “You...”
“What?” he takes off my hat to play with my hair.
“You’re not..lying to keep me from killing myself are you? Because really there’s a lot more to it then just not being with you.”
“I’m not lying.” he pecks my lips, “If you don’t believe me, ask your mom. She knows all about my feelings for you.”
I blush lightly, “She does?”
He nods.
“That’s funny...since she’s the only person I’ve told about my feelings for you.”
He chuckles softly, “Good to know she can keep a secret...and Patrick?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you’re depressed. I know some days you’d rather die then stand another second of that internal war... but when that happens, we can fight it together, okay?”
I bite my lip and nod, “Okay.”
He kisses me again before putting one edge of the note in my hand. I smile at him as we pull each end and rip it in half.
“What are you thinking about?” Before I look over to him, I can hear the frown in Pete’s voice.
Killing myself...
I shrug, “Nothing.”
“Patrick... I can tell something’s wrong...”
I shrug again, “Something’s always wrong.”
He sighs, “Is it this Valentine’s Day depression thing again?”
“Well, it is depressing...”
“Patrick, just because you’re single-”
“Have never had a relationship.” I correct him.
“...Still. Just do something that makes you happy on that day. Trust me, buying someone a bunch of junk doesn’t really make you happy.” he nods over to the big teddybear for his girlfriend, “I mean, she’ll like it and that’s cool and she’ll get me something and that’s cool too but... it’s really not as great as you think. It feels so fake, you know? It’s like.. you’re obligated to.”
I shrug, “It’s not the getting stuff and not getting stuff Pete.. it’s the being alone.”
“I know that... then don’t be alone. You can hang out with me and-”
“No thanks.”
“Then continue to sulk about it. I don’t know what else to tell you Patrick. Other than you’re amazing, and someday you’ll find someone who realizes it.”
“Yeah, okay.” I stand up from Pete’s couch, “I’m gonna go sulk at home.”
He frowns, “No, you can sulk here all you want. You can stay the night...” he bites his lip worriedly.
I shake my head and head towards the door, “Night.”
He sighs, “Night..”
I hate that Pete worries about me. He has every reason to, of course, I just feel guilty. But after tomorrow he won’t have to worry anymore. I kick my shoes off and pull off my jeans before getting into bed and slowly falling asleep.
I decide to write a note to him, because I can’t say it to his face. I just can’t. By the time I get over to his house, he’ll be out with her. I think they’re going to dinner and then a movie, but I wasn’t really paying much attention to his Valentine’s Day plans.
Pete,
First, I want to say that I’m sorry for how much you worry about me. And I’m also sorry about the way in which you won’t have to worry anymore.
I don’t really know how to say this, other than just bluntly saying it: I’m in love with you.
Before you tear this up in disgust, I know you don’t feel the same. I know you’re perfectly happy with her, and that’s fine. I want you to be happy. Because if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you. With that said, you can have all of my stuff, give some to goodwill if you want, whatever.
And, could you please tell my mom I’m sorry and that I love her? Please tell her it’s nothing she did. That she’s an amazing mom, and she shouldn’t blame herself.
Speaking of blame, don’t blame yourself either. This isn’t your fault. I’ve been depressed for a long time, and living just isn’t ideal for me anymore. But hell, with me being in love with you, maybe you’ll be relieved I’m dead.
Happy Valentine’s Day,
Patrick
I fold up the note and stuff it into my pocket before sighing and putting on my shoes. I’ll put this note on his door while he’s with her, then come back and take the large assortment of pills I’ve collected. I drive to his house, almost sickeningly calm. I park the car and turn it off before I put a piece of tape on the folded note, and scribble his name on the outside. I walk up to the door as my hands begin to shake. I put the note on the door, rubbing my thumb over the tape to make sure it sticks when I hear a voice come from behind me.
“Patrick?”
I jump and turn to see Pete and his girlfriend.
“H-Hi...” I shake as Pete’s eyes look from me, to the note on his door.
“What’s that?” he walks over to the door.
Panic floods my chest as he pulls the note off the door, “Pe-Pete don’t!” I try to grab it from him, but stumble clumsily as he moves away, opening it.
I begin to shake more violently as his eyes move back and forth across the page. Before he finishes I have to leave. I have to do this. I turn and run to my car.
“Patrick.” Pete’s voice cracks, “I think we should talk before you do anything.”
I shake my head and get into the car, locking the doors and starting it.
“What?” she looks between the two of us, “What the fuck is going on-”
“Angie, you should go home.” Pete looks to her before walking over to my car and sitting on the hood.
She throws a bit of a fit before getting in her own car and leaving.
I groan as Pete stubbornly crosses his arms. I turn off the car and get out.
“C-Can we n-not have th-the whole “I-I love you I’m just no-not in love with you” t-talk? Be-Because I know o-okay?”
“We do need to talk, Patrick. You... You can’t kill yourself.”
“Why the fuck not?” I ball my fists angrily, “I wasn’t asking your permission I was just fucking letting you know. It was supposed to be after I was already fucking dead!”
“Yeah, well she was driving me nuts so I told her I wasn’t feeling well and brought her back here so she could pick up her car and go home.” he gets down from the hood of my car, “Now, we’re going to talk, whether you want to or not. But we’re going to talk inside, where you can’t run into traffic.” he grabs my arm and pulls me inside.
He locks the door behind us and points to the couch. I sigh and sit down and watch him pace back and forth, getting his thoughts together before turning to me.
“What the fuck where you thinking?” I open my mouth but he continues before I can reply, “Killing yourself? And just so calmly writing a suicide note.” he looks over it, “Your hand wasn’t shaking a goddamn bit Patrick! Can you imagine how I’d feel if I got home in a few hours and read this!? And relieved, is not one of the fucking feelings I’d have Patrick! I’d end up driving to your house and finding your body.” his hands shake violently as he looks over the note more, “How could you? How could you just leave me and everyone else who cares about you behind? And your mother, oh yes I’m going to make you feel guilty as fuck right now, your mother would have died of a broken fucking heart! Can you imagine how she’d fucking feel? OF COURSE SHE’D BLAME HERSELF! SHE’D THINK SHE DIDN’T CALL ENOUGH OR SHE SHOULD HAVE NOTICED YOU WEREN’T OKAY! SHE’D THINK SHE WAS A HORRIBLE MOTHER FOR NOT SEEING THE SIGNS!” he stops himself and takes a deep breathe before he calms down a bit, “And me... I’d feel like the worst fucking friend ever. Because Patrick, I know you have your issues with depression. And I... I’m part of it.” his eyes start to water, “Patrick... Of course I’d blame myself. For not making you stay the night when I was terrified you’d do something stupid. So many nights I stayed up sick with worry. But you know what I’d blame myself for the most?” he walks over to me and puts his hands gently on my shoulders, “For not doing this the first time I wanted to.” he presses his lips against mine.
My eyes widen in shock as he slowly pulls back.
“Goddamn it Patrick I love you. I just.. I never said anything because I was afraid you’d freak out on me... I had no idea...no clue you wanted me too. So I got into many useless relationships hoping I’d find someone to get my mind off you. But it never worked. I always wished it was you hugging me, kissing me, fucking, fucking me...I..fuck Patrick!” he kisses me again, softer this time.
This time I’m able to kiss back, my arms wrapping up against his neck as he slowly sits in my lap for a less awkward position. Our lips move together slowly, and I feel a few of his tears roll onto my cheeks. He pulls back after a few minutes and hugs me tightly, resting his head on my shoulder, “You’re not going home tonight. I’ll fucking slash your tires if I have to.”
My voice shakes, “You want me to stay?”
“Did I not make that clear? I don’t just want you to stay, I’m forcing you.” he looks into my eyes, “Because I love you and I couldn’t stand to lose you.”
“Wh-What about...her?”
He shrugs a shoulder, “I’ll take care of that.”
“H-How?”
“Like this.” he texts out a message and shows it to me.
Bad day for this, and I’m sorry about that. But things aren’t really working out. It’s nothing you did or anything, I just recently found out the person I’ve been in love with for years feels the same so... I hope you understand, if not...well then tell you’re friends I’m an evil douchebag and move on.
I laugh softly at the text, “You know you’ll be the evil douchebag, right?”
He shrugs, “I don’t care, I was polite. And it’s true.” he kisses my cheek, “Now, about this note? Don’t you fucking do that to me. Because if you kill yourself, you can bet your ass I’m right behind you.”
I look down, “You...”
“What?” he takes off my hat to play with my hair.
“You’re not..lying to keep me from killing myself are you? Because really there’s a lot more to it then just not being with you.”
“I’m not lying.” he pecks my lips, “If you don’t believe me, ask your mom. She knows all about my feelings for you.”
I blush lightly, “She does?”
He nods.
“That’s funny...since she’s the only person I’ve told about my feelings for you.”
He chuckles softly, “Good to know she can keep a secret...and Patrick?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you’re depressed. I know some days you’d rather die then stand another second of that internal war... but when that happens, we can fight it together, okay?”
I bite my lip and nod, “Okay.”
He kisses me again before putting one edge of the note in my hand. I smile at him as we pull each end and rip it in half.
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