My life has been pretty damn fucked up. Bullying at every school. Being a social outcast everywhere I go. When I walk around with short sleeves there’s always people looking at me and I feel them judging me for having scars. I couldn’t help myself but feel miserable every second of the day. Crouching my shoulders and hiding in shadows had become me, I had thought I was part of the shadow sometimes. That’s how bad it was. Then I met this amazing man. Gerard Way. He saved me, he made me feel special, he loved me at points I thought I couldn’t live, and he helped me through them.
We had created the best memories, we started a band with his brother, Mikey, and some other friends. I had been the guitarist, and Gerard had been the singer/songwriter. We were unseperatable, on or off stage. It didn’t matter. Our relationship had been more passionate than in any movie, or any other couple I knew. On stage we showed our fans we weren’t afraid to love, and we got even closer off stage. Being with Gerard had opened up so many new doors for me. Good ones. I could see a future with him. We slept together, often. It was awesome. We kissed with passion I had never had before. It didn’t even matter if it was a quick sloppy kiss on the nose, or a passionate deep kiss on the lips; it just felt right. Like my mouth was designed to fit the slot that was Gerard’s mouth. We fit together so well, so many things alike. So many things we shared. We kept no secrets. We loved like nobody else.
Sadly, nothing good ever lasts forever.
Then one day he left, the band, the memories, everything we had. Broken.
What was I supposed to do now?
I couldn’t live without Gerard!??
He had moved on soon enough to a girl. And the only support I had was from my mom and his brother, Mikey Way.
Our band, My Chemical Romance had been great for the time we had it. I thought we would stick together till we died, and Gerard and I would last much longer, till death in fact.
I started to get worse than before, before I met Gerard.
Remembering all the memories I started cutting, cutting out the pain. Cutting the pain away from my skin. I didn’t want any part of him to stay with me, or on my skin. I would remember him too much if he remained on my skin. I took many hour long showers, to wash memories away. Hot showers, which ended up scorching my back so I couldn’t feel it for a few hours; yet the memories wouldn’t wash away. It got worse and worse. I got worse and worse. I would barely even think before grabbing one of my trusting razors and pressing it against my skin. I wouldn’t do anything to try to look better, I woke up put on a dark tee shirt and dark jeans and not do anything my hair or face. Grabbing my trusted razor and pulling it along my arm holding back screams seemed to be the only thing that was familiar in my life. Late at night I would sleep in the same clothes I had put on in the morning. Often I wouldn’t even care to put on new clothes in 2 or 3 days.
When I would wake up I’d think, of fuck I’m not asleep anymore, this isn’t a dream anymore, and oh worst of all. Where’s Gerard? Oh. Right…. Then I’d just get up and look at myself in the mirror and looked at myself, what did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I good enough? Realizing I hadn’t been good enough for the love of my life who told me I was perfect to him, and it didn’t matter if I was to anyone else; if I was bullied, or anything. He told me everyone had been wrong and I was damn precious and perfect. He told me so often I started to believe it myself and smile. And now he’s gone. There’s nobody that tells me that anymore. And apparently he hadn’t meant it, because why leave a perfect person? There was honestly no reason to live anymore without Gerard.
I don’t know what it is, but there was always something holding me back and just stuck to cutting myself again.
I didn’t even give myself time to heal, and had more frequent hospital visits.
Eventually I was sent to rehab. It helped a little, but after a while I stopped going, because it didn’t help me restore any pieces of my broken heart, which I had given to Gerard. They gave me pills and other things to help me forget, and tried to talk some sense into me, but no. I had lost half of me when I lost Gerard and he couldn’t get off of my mind. And I just needed the cool, welcoming pain of my blades daily. Hourly. Minutes long. Then look at my blood seeping out, and I hoped the blood that left my body would be the part of me that cares about Gerard, but the blood that was remade only seemed to crave Gerard more. Yet I hoped at some point I would forget Gerard, or it would become okay.
But it never did.
So one day, I wrote my mom a note, saying I loved her. I locked myself up in my room, and started bleeding out more than ever before, my eyes were watery to fight back tears. Soon enough I got dizzy, but I couldn’t help myself to stop. I needed to keep going. I heard angry voices coming closer, and quick steps coming to my room quickly. Heavy steps. High pitched worried voices. I couldn’t let myself be saved again. I had suffered enough. But I had to tell my mom sorry and had to tell her goodbye. She could never be on time anyway. I thought as I slashed further up my arm. Not feeling. Not thinking. No love.

Notes

sorry if this is completely horrible.
I'm very, very sad right now,
and I have like 3 projects due this week and I'm getting braces Monday and just.
fuck life.
ugh.
idk if I'm writing a second chapter or more to this story.
comment what you think.