It's Not a Fashion Statement

Gerard lazily rolled over in his bed, his head spinning and his mind a mess. He really didn’t know what he was going to do with himself. Gerard hadn’t eaten properly in a long time, and saying he was sleep deprived would be an understatement. He really was a mess and he really didn’t know what he was going to do with himself anymore.
Gerard thought about all the times he used to wake up, those mornings he’d try to numb everything with alcohol. But this particular morning he knew that drowning himself in alcohol wasn’t going to save him from reality. After all, alcohol was always only a temporary lifeline.
And maybe Gerard was finally coming to grips with the fact he had been holding onto temporary lifelines this whole time, and maybe he was finally starting to tell the truth because the lies really couldn’t cover for much anymore. You can’t stay afloat when your being held down, and all the lies Gerard had been weighing himself down with may have actually got too much.

Gerard was just unable to do anything anymore, he really doubted he could even get up go buy them flowers and say goodbye to them for the last time. Gerard knew this would be the last time, because he knew he couldn’t take this any longer. Whether it be the lies dragging him down and the water flooding his lungs, or the toxicity of the air above when he finally aloud the truth to surface, Gerard knew he had finally lost all hope, and he knew there wasn’t anything worth living for anymore.


Sure, Gerard had his job, he had friends, and he had his parents. But none of that could make up for the loss of his brother and his lover.
And only them being there could maybe make him want to live with the guilt, but he didn’t even have that. Gerard did bad things and Gerard lost the people that meant the world to him, and really, Gerard had just lost himself. He really didn’t believe there was much for him anymore, and maybe that was the truth.

So as Gerard buried his head in the pillows, he didn’t hear his phone go off. He wouldn’t have answered it anyway, but this way he didn’t have an option. Gerard didn’t want an option anymore, because that meant thinking, and thinking was way too much for him to handle at the moment. An option meant taking control and good responsibility, and well, Gerard was far from good responsible and in control at this stage.

He groaned into his pillow, his hairs on the back of his neck standing on end and his eyes droopy, he really needed to sleep. He just couldn’t, though. He couldn’t do anything at all and it was killing him more to stay like this than to just end his life.
After all, Gerard deserved nothing but a heavy gravestone, the coldest, numbest and deadliest weight that was on his shoulders.

Gerard thought about frank, as if he couldn’t, the empty space in his bed, the empty space where he’d usually be curled up and snuggled into his side was empty and cold, just a reminder of how cold his hands felt and how empty of life the boy was. Gerard just cried at that, he just screamed into his pillow and sobbed, because he wanted him back, he wanted him back so bad, and no matter the fact he deserved this heartbreak, he was weak and he could never live up to pay the consequences. Not that that mattered, Gerard knew neither frank nor mikey were coming back and it was all a lost cause.
But he could never forget how much he pleaded and cried for them to just stay with him, and he wouldn’t ever forgive himself for what happened.

The thing Gerard hated about the truth so much was the way it hurt more than the guilt of lying. The truth really did bring you back to reality and it really did make you pay. The truth was a bitch, no wonder Gerard ran away from it the last four, fucked up years of his life. The truth was like a huge ass bitch slap to the face, which stung like a motherfucker.

Gerard had heard all the quotes about truth, “you can shut it out but it won’t go away”, that certainly was a true statement, because Gerard had kept all the bullshit in the back of his mind forever, it seemed, he forgot about it at times but it was always still there. “Tell the truth, or someone will tell it for you”, Gerard remembered mikey once told him all those years ago. But Gerard just shrugged it off at the time, because Gerard had never been good responsible. He never considered the effects it could have on other people, and now he was starting to do that, it really was bringing him back to reality.
But it was too late to care about the people around him.

Truth was supposed to have good and bad consequences; it was supposed to make you pay for the wrong but it was supposed to lift a weight off your shoulders. But that didn’t happen with Gerard, all he felt was the heavy gravestone getting closer and closer. Because maybe it was truly too late, and maybe this sudden realization was all too much. Gerard deserved to die, Gerard wanted to die, it was like that one mistake of failing that art course then getting fucked over with Bert was a death wish.




Maybe he was just born to die, he thought to himself, trying to lie again, not wanting to take the blame. But then he came back to reality and realized it was nothing but himself who had truly fucked up, and everyday he made it worse. Well this was it; Gerard wasn’t going to fuck anyone else over with his dumb brain and his childlike antics of lying, running, and blaming everyone, anything else anymore.

Gerard ignored the shouts that spun around his head; he ignored the conscience that screamed at him this was a mistake as he emptied the second bottle of pills into his palm. He completely ignored what he finally came to grips with as the fake voices he was imagining. Gerard knew no one was there for him, because nobody really quite cared about him, not now he didn’t care for anyone else or himself, either. Gerard really believed you couldn’t care without expectations.

This was it for Gerard, Gerard was certain he was going to end his life today.

He lifted his palm to his mouth, ready to dry swallow the pills. But as he closed his eyes, he couldn’t rid himself of that night, the one where frank was holding him and hugging him and telling him he loved him, and Gerard was crying, Gerard was a huge mess and he had cuts all over his arms, because he was an idiot, and frank was crying so much because he hated it; he hated to see Gerard like that, and Gerard couldn’t fucking do this shit whilst he thought about frank, he couldn’t kill himself with the image of frank hugging him. The pills all fell to the floor, and he turned to the mirror, trying to regulate his breathing, his face flushed pink and his greasy black hair messy and in his eyes.

Notes

OK i get it's a wack update what ever BacK oFf I've been trying to write this wank for like 4 days and i keep rewriting it bc when ever I've written i get fucking distracted and none of it makes sense i know shut uP i get so fucking distracted like I'm just sat here watching live mcr videos and eating sandwiches even though it's fucking midnight and fucking jamming my ass off its hard to multi task ok

but i did write the next chapter and I'm feelin real kind so ima update that shit NOW YOURe welcome