Teenagers
Tell Me I'll Be Fine
“Close your eyes. It helps sometimes,” Gerard says, holding me tight. “Pretend you’re somewhere else, under happier circumstances.”
He’s trying to stay strong. Older siblings tend to be the strong ones. But it’s easy to hear that he’s struggling. Why wouldn’t he be? His voice constantly breaks and shakes. I can feel every rib, every dent, every cringe of his beautiful body. And, if I’m not completely mistaken, those are warm, salty tears dripping onto my shoulder.
There’s a big knot forming at the pit of my stomach. “You said you wouldn’t leave me. You said I wouldn’t be alone again. You promised, Gee. You promised,” I whimper, fighting the stinging sensation forming in the corner of my eye. Blinking and blinking. Trying to hold the tears back, trying to force the lump in my throat to go away.
Gerard is a sensitive guy. He says it’s fine to cry, in fact, he cries a lot. It’s nothing against him. It’s people in general. I don’t like it when they see me vulnerable. I don’t like showing weakness. Some might call it social anxiety; others, specifically high school kids, would call it being weird.
Being weird isn’t always a bad thing. Gerard is weird, yet he has loads of friends.
“Mikes, that was 3 years ago. Besides, you won’t be alone. You have Frank and Ray at school.” Gee says it as if they are my friends. “And you can call me any time you want,” he continues, slowly stroking my back in a rhythmic pattern. “You’ll be okay.”
Gee and I talk about everything. He’s my go to guy. We’ve always been this tight. We’ve always had a special bond. He’s always been the popular one, the one who has friends and makes new ones. Sometimes he lets me hang out with him and his friends. I get really low sometimes. He doesn’t like seeing me depressed. He does everything in his power to keep me busy. He’s a great brother.
My mouth is dry. Extremely dry. I don’t really know what to say anymore… He’s going away, and there is nothing I can do about it. It scares me. The thought of it scares me. Being alone scares me.
But the fear of being alone is not even close to the fear of being social; actually having to interact with other people besides Gerard. He’s always been there to protect me.
The next thought that pops into my head strikes me like a fist to the gut, and, as the air whooshes out of my lungs, I whisper, “Does this mean I’ll have to go back to mom and dad?”
Gee’s expression is enough to draw the tears from my eyes. Warm, salty drops roll down my red cheeks. “Gee, I can’t go back. You know I can’t. Don’t you remember what happened? Don’t you remember their reactions!?” I cry.
Gerard tightens his grip as I feel him cringe. Sob. Weep. I hear the deafened whines coming out of his mouth as he squeezes me as tight as humanly possible. His shaky breath warms the back of my neck. I could stand here, holding him, forever. That’s all I want. I don’t ever want to let go.
But the dream of standing here forever is destroyed as Gerard pulls away, tears bucketing from his eyes. ‘I’m sorry’ he mouths, no sound escaping him.
******
The night is dark. Darker than usual I mean. Not one star is to be seen in the deep blue sky. Not one star is shining, showing its existence this mournful night. Not one star is there saying “even though it’s dark right now, somewhere there is light.” No. Tonight is dark.
Gee lay next to me, quietly. We’ve both gone empty. What do you say when no words can ever come close to explaining what you are feeling? What do you say when you don’t even understand what you are feeling?
Tears are streaming down both of our cheeks. Gee is holding me, protecting me from the evil world outside of his safe arms.
My room is more depressing than usual, darker. The cold, grey walls make me feel trapped, like I couldn’t get out even if I tried. Not that I’d want to leave. Not when Gee’s here at least.
Gerard's deep, gasping breaths are like silk stroking my neck. His deafened cries break my heart. Although we are together, I know this is the loneliest any of us have ever felt.
I can’t stop the tears from escaping my eyes, one after the other, although it feels like I went numb hours ago. It feels like something is pressing on top of my heart, forcing it down into my stomach, and making it stay there.
Here we lay, on my bed, in the dark, minutes passing like hours.
The bright, backlit clock on my nightstand says it’s 04.12am. I can still hear Gerard. I can still feel him. He’s still crying. It’s softer now, less painful. He’s still holding me just as tight.
We haven’t moved an inch since we went to bed. I feel so exhausted. After hours of staring, the blank wall in front of me is getting pretty dull. I just want to fall into a deep sleep, and dream about how things will work out. I want to forget about the rest of the world.
As I struggle to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss out on one second with Gee, I hear raindrops land on my ceiling window. It’s a soft sound, a soothing sound, but also a depressing sound.
“Gee, tell me I’ll be fine…” I whisper subconsciously and, as I drift into a deep sleep I hear a soft, reassuring “you are fine”.
It is dark out, and it doesn’t seem to be getting any lighter. Not for a while. I don’t mind though. I’m used to darkness. I’ve been living in it the past 16 years. What’s another?
He’s trying to stay strong. Older siblings tend to be the strong ones. But it’s easy to hear that he’s struggling. Why wouldn’t he be? His voice constantly breaks and shakes. I can feel every rib, every dent, every cringe of his beautiful body. And, if I’m not completely mistaken, those are warm, salty tears dripping onto my shoulder.
There’s a big knot forming at the pit of my stomach. “You said you wouldn’t leave me. You said I wouldn’t be alone again. You promised, Gee. You promised,” I whimper, fighting the stinging sensation forming in the corner of my eye. Blinking and blinking. Trying to hold the tears back, trying to force the lump in my throat to go away.
Gerard is a sensitive guy. He says it’s fine to cry, in fact, he cries a lot. It’s nothing against him. It’s people in general. I don’t like it when they see me vulnerable. I don’t like showing weakness. Some might call it social anxiety; others, specifically high school kids, would call it being weird.
Being weird isn’t always a bad thing. Gerard is weird, yet he has loads of friends.
“Mikes, that was 3 years ago. Besides, you won’t be alone. You have Frank and Ray at school.” Gee says it as if they are my friends. “And you can call me any time you want,” he continues, slowly stroking my back in a rhythmic pattern. “You’ll be okay.”
Gee and I talk about everything. He’s my go to guy. We’ve always been this tight. We’ve always had a special bond. He’s always been the popular one, the one who has friends and makes new ones. Sometimes he lets me hang out with him and his friends. I get really low sometimes. He doesn’t like seeing me depressed. He does everything in his power to keep me busy. He’s a great brother.
My mouth is dry. Extremely dry. I don’t really know what to say anymore… He’s going away, and there is nothing I can do about it. It scares me. The thought of it scares me. Being alone scares me.
But the fear of being alone is not even close to the fear of being social; actually having to interact with other people besides Gerard. He’s always been there to protect me.
The next thought that pops into my head strikes me like a fist to the gut, and, as the air whooshes out of my lungs, I whisper, “Does this mean I’ll have to go back to mom and dad?”
Gee’s expression is enough to draw the tears from my eyes. Warm, salty drops roll down my red cheeks. “Gee, I can’t go back. You know I can’t. Don’t you remember what happened? Don’t you remember their reactions!?” I cry.
Gerard tightens his grip as I feel him cringe. Sob. Weep. I hear the deafened whines coming out of his mouth as he squeezes me as tight as humanly possible. His shaky breath warms the back of my neck. I could stand here, holding him, forever. That’s all I want. I don’t ever want to let go.
But the dream of standing here forever is destroyed as Gerard pulls away, tears bucketing from his eyes. ‘I’m sorry’ he mouths, no sound escaping him.
******
The night is dark. Darker than usual I mean. Not one star is to be seen in the deep blue sky. Not one star is shining, showing its existence this mournful night. Not one star is there saying “even though it’s dark right now, somewhere there is light.” No. Tonight is dark.
Gee lay next to me, quietly. We’ve both gone empty. What do you say when no words can ever come close to explaining what you are feeling? What do you say when you don’t even understand what you are feeling?
Tears are streaming down both of our cheeks. Gee is holding me, protecting me from the evil world outside of his safe arms.
My room is more depressing than usual, darker. The cold, grey walls make me feel trapped, like I couldn’t get out even if I tried. Not that I’d want to leave. Not when Gee’s here at least.
Gerard's deep, gasping breaths are like silk stroking my neck. His deafened cries break my heart. Although we are together, I know this is the loneliest any of us have ever felt.
I can’t stop the tears from escaping my eyes, one after the other, although it feels like I went numb hours ago. It feels like something is pressing on top of my heart, forcing it down into my stomach, and making it stay there.
Here we lay, on my bed, in the dark, minutes passing like hours.
The bright, backlit clock on my nightstand says it’s 04.12am. I can still hear Gerard. I can still feel him. He’s still crying. It’s softer now, less painful. He’s still holding me just as tight.
We haven’t moved an inch since we went to bed. I feel so exhausted. After hours of staring, the blank wall in front of me is getting pretty dull. I just want to fall into a deep sleep, and dream about how things will work out. I want to forget about the rest of the world.
As I struggle to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss out on one second with Gee, I hear raindrops land on my ceiling window. It’s a soft sound, a soothing sound, but also a depressing sound.
“Gee, tell me I’ll be fine…” I whisper subconsciously and, as I drift into a deep sleep I hear a soft, reassuring “you are fine”.
It is dark out, and it doesn’t seem to be getting any lighter. Not for a while. I don’t mind though. I’m used to darkness. I’ve been living in it the past 16 years. What’s another?
11/2/13