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Bury me in all my favorite colors

Broken

I couldn't even remember how I'd ended up at Lana's. After she had left the venue, I had grabbed the Jack Daniels and from that moment on, everything had turned into a blur. Vaguely I recalled doing the rest of the coke in the middle of the street, washing it down with the rest of the liquor, then throwing it all up 15 minutes later. The next thing I knew I was wet all over and stumbling into her apartment building where the concierge had stopped me.

Now, Lana was steadying me as we entered her apartment and I felt like someone had beaten me with a baseball bat, I was physically and emotionally drained. She sat me down, pulling off my shoes and hoodie, clearly upset.

'Lana...' I started but she ignored me and continued to undress me, not looking me in the eyes.

When she had stripped me down to my underwear, she pulled me up harshly, dragging me with her in the bathroom where she turned on the shower, shoving me under the ice cold water before closing the curtain. I could see her shadow as she sat down on the toilet. The water stung on my skin, bringing my mind back to reality, sharpening my thoughts. What the fuck had I been thinking, showing up here, causing even more pain? I adjusted the temperature to something less uncomfortable and grabbed the shower gel in a trance, somehow managing to clean myself up although I couldn't stop feeling dirty and disgusting. As I stepped out of the shower, Lana was gone and a towel as well as a fresh pair of pyjamas had been placed on the counter. She still cared about me, after what I did, how could she still care about me?

I found her sitting on the couch, her phone in her hands.

'I called Brian to tell him you're here. Everyone was worried about you.' she said, her voice giving away the tears she had shed.

'I can leave again.' I replied, meaning it. She got up, looking down at the floor.

'You can sleep in the guest bedroom. Or on the couch. Whatever you prefer.' she walked towards her own bedroom door.

'Lana. Please. I want to talk to you. I want to explain.' I begged and she finally turned around to look at me.

'You don't have to. I know. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't keep you from doing it.' she started and I couldn't believe what she was saying. She was blaming herself? For what I had done?

That hurt me the most. Not the fact that I had fucked up and broken every promise that I had ever given to her, no, but the fact that she was blaming herself, feeling sorry for me. I didn't deserve her pity. I didn't deserve anything from her anymore.

'You don't get to do this, Lana. You don't, you don't...get to take responsibility for my actions. I did this. This was my fault, my responsibility.' my voice was getting louder and I realized I was still too intoxicated to really have a proper conversation.

'Sleep it off, Gerard.' she simply said and disappeared into her bedroom.

*

He was screaming and crying in his sleep and I had to fight the urge to go and comfort him. Not again, I thought. I could not do this again. He had to get through this alone. It tore me apart but I knew that this was the only chance he had. So I stayed in bed, pressing my eyes shut, hoping, praying for sleep.

It didn't come, so I got up and made myself some tea, wasting the time before dawn with some shitty television. Not that it mattered what I watched, nothing could take my mind off things. I had searched Gerard's pockets, finding traces of drugs, cocaine from the looks of it and some pills. This was beyond my control, I thought, he needed professional help. Help that he probably wouldn't seek or accept and I knew I couldn't make him. There was nothing I could do.

I jumped when I heard a noise behind me and found him standing there, looking like a ghost.

'Can I sit with you?' he asked and from the sound of his voice I could tell he had sobered up almost entirely. I was about to shake my head but instead I nodded, moving to the furthest corner of the couch, not able to sit closer to him.

He swallowed hard and sat down, wrapping himself in the blanket he had brought from the bedroom. We both stared at the TV for a while, pretending to be interested in the tupperware set they were selling on QVC. I didn't know what to say or how to act. All I really wanted to do was hug him, hold him close, tell him I loved him no matter what and that I would stay in New York after all, to be with him, every step of the way. That's what my heart would have wanted. But the truth was, my heart was broken.

'I'm so glad the cancer is gone. So, so glad.' he whispered and I could feel his eyes on me. He was being sincere, I knew it, although I could hear something else in his voice. The realization that I was going to leave.

'I can't stay.' I replied, my eyes stinging.

'I know.'

'I wish I could.'

'I know.' he said again. 'But I also want you to know that I'll be waiting for you.'

'Please, Gerard. No more promises. No more promises you can't keep.' it hurt me to say it.

He was quiet for a while before I could feel him moving closer. My first instinct was to get up but for some reason I stayed put, not retracting my hand as he grabbed it.

'I'm sorry I couldn't do this for you.' he said and now tears welled up in my eyes again.

'I never wanted you to do it for me. I was hoping you'd want to do it for yourself.' I answered, squeezing his hand. 'But you didn't. And I can't make you.' I looked at him now, taking in the pain in his eyes, sharing mine with him.

I could tell he wanted to kiss me but he didn't. Probably because he couldn't have handled the fact that it would have been our last one.

*

I stayed with her for a little longer. Telling her that I wanted her to be happy and healthy and that nothing else mattered to me anymore. She wished me the same things, letting me know that I could always call or visit her in Paris. That she would always be there for me, as a friend. I accepted her offer, without making any promises. What would happen in a month? A year? Five years? I couldn't make any plans for the future since I was convinced I didn't have one. Eventually I would just be a distant memory, some messed up guy she had met back in New York. An acquaintance at best.

She hugged me tightly when we said goodbye and I breathed in her scent one last time, feeling her soft, warm skin, taking comfort in it although we were both crying. I realized we had switched roles. When we had first met, she had been the one dying while I had been the one living. She had been jealous of me and I had pitied her. Now she was healthy, had gotten rid of the cancer, while I was rotten inside, the pain growing and spreading like a tumor. Unlike her, I wasn't fighting though. Letting the misery take over, not able to acknowledge the fact that it was eating me alive. Instead, I was feeding the habit.

I kissing her forehead and had to force myself to leave, feeling lost with nowhere to go although I knew that Mikey was waiting for me at home. Home. What a weird name to call it when this had been my home. Here, with Lana.

When I checked my phone, I had a lot of missed calls, mostly from Brian because the others were already used to my antics and didn't care much. At least they pretended not to care much and I didn't blame them. To be honest, even if they did, what difference would it make? Would it change anything? If Lana and what I felt for her wasn't enough to stop me from doing this to myself, nothing could. I could lie to myself, act as if I was strong enough, as if there were no issues, but it only worked for a little while. I knew what I was doing. I was aware of the consequences. But I didn't care either. Maybe I even enjoyed it.

But hurting myself was one thing. Hurting Lana fucked me up really bad. I punished myself by not numbing the pain, letting the guilt hurt me was the only thing I could do to make myself suffer.

*

Just three days later, I was all packed and ready to leave. It had been a blur and I had unpacked and repacked several times, having doubts, feeling like shit for going when Gerard needed me the most. But I couldn't be a substitute for his addictions. I couldn't be his therapist. As hard as it was to admit, although I didn't regret anything we had shared, it had been a mistake to let him use me as one. The idea of fixing someone, the idea of saving him from himself had been romantic at first and we had both been ignorant to the fact that this couldn't be like in the movies, where love could overcome everything. It couldn't. Not when Gerard hated himself as fiercely as he did.

My mother and Greg were both trying to talk me out of it but they didn't know what had happened. I told them that I just wanted to start over, have a go at living my own life, which wasn't the entire truth but a good excuse. And after all, I'd never had 'my own life'. I had only just finished school, had started a gap year with a plan to travel the world before returning to Paris to go to film school. My dream had been to get a Bachelor of Fine arts with an emphasis on screenwriting, maybe also continue ballet in my free time. But then the whole cancer thing happened and although I'd wanted to enroll anyway, my mother insisted that I'd come to New York with her to continue my treatment there. I was still young, only a bit over a year had passed and I could still do all that but Dr Miller had suggested I'd take it easy. Right now, I just wanted to get away from everything. Go back to my life before I got sick. Gerard had to take care of himself now and I had to do the same thing. We weren't good for each other like this. I was eager to live, desperately trying to share my positivity with him although he wasn't able to accept it.

And so I got on the plane, crying my eyes out the entire time, still trying to figure out a way to help him even though I knew there wasn't one. As hard as it was, I had to tell myself over and over again that I was doing the right thing for both of us. He had let me go, ultimately proving me that he loved me too much to keep me from leaving. But what had I proven? That I didn't love him enough to stay? That I loved him too much to stay? Was I only seeing what I wanted to see? The good in him that he couldn't see, willing to take the blame, willing to write myself off as the bad guy? It wasn't fair, I knew it and he had told me. Gerard had no problem constantly acknowledging the fact that he was the broken one but the truth was, we were both broken. And we both had to fix ourselves first before hopefully, getting a second chance to be with each other again.

Notes

So, this was the last chapter.
But as you might be able to tell, the story doesn't end here. There will be a sequel and I hope you are excited for it.

Please continue to let me know what you think. Of course criticism and suggestions are also welcome :)

Watch out for the sequel, prologue will probably be posted tuesday or wednesday

Thanks everyone!

Comments

So good!!!

Jackie Jackie
4/10/18
@Nichole Unfiltered
thank you so much! :) I'm glad you liked it, your feedback means a lot.
the_girl the_girl
10/21/13
All I can say is wow, this story was truly AMAZING! You're such a creative and talented writer, and I can't wait to read the sequel!
@thisbitchcray:P
enjoy it while you can
the_girl the_girl
10/13/13
We shall thank the Gods for this plentiful amount of smut
Funghoul'sGirl Funghoul'sGirl
10/13/13