Hell Of A Year

I had black hair. Greasy and almost always messier than my room. I liked to run my hand through it in my art class, when i pretended to be interested in what the teacher was saying. I used my weekends, sitting in the park with my group of friends, even when it was way too fucking cold.
He was there. He was always there. Always making me laugh because he knew I didn't like being sad. He had dark brown hair circling his face, almost as greasy as mine and it was messier than my room. He had dark hazel eyes like mine but more there were more tales in his, though he had smaller bags under his eyes, he still had bags. He was more tanned, and he covered himself in pretty pictures, showing he had lived a life, unlike me who was afraid of showing their past.

He was just like me, but still so different from me, that's why I'm interested.

"Gerard, let's go get drinks... just you and me." he said.

"I need to talk to you... but don't worry it's nothing serious." he added his pot laugh to the 'serious'.

"Yeah... okay." Though I already knew what he was going to say, I pretended not to know, it was more fun that way.

1993 end. The boy I talked about was Frank Iero, the one.

1994 just started, and we were happily together with him in his way too small apartment.
He always put the same movies replay because he knew I didn't like silence. I fell asleep in that too small sofa and he stroked my hair.
Morning were the same, black coffee, because no one bought milk. We didn't need milk in that apartment. I made pancakes and sweared, when I couldn't turn them around nicely.
Mom called me every Saturday and told me she had put 20 dollars to my bank account.

I was in love with him and his too small apartment.

I made sketches and confusing 'drawings' in buses and subways, in the rainy November, of all the things I was feeling at the end of 1994.

The year changed suddenly and it was 1995. I didn't get it at the time but 1995 wasn't my lucky number. First months I was cold all the time because of my clothing and was trying to become a vegetarian, because he was vegetarian too.
I was eighteen and supposedly ready to be an adult. Mom smoked with me at nights and laughed at his sweat pants.
Spring was tough. My friend and I decided to wander around United States with a car. She took a picture of me with my gray coat on.I thought I was on the right road even though I didn't even know how to read a map.

April came and everything turned around. Spring came fast like hell.

April. Friday was hopeful. I visited my brother but I can't remember why. When I got back home my whole life broke down. Mom went away, and I was beating our neighbors door with my knuckles on blood. I called all my friends and none of them answered right away. He told me he had slipped, when running to the bus stop. I held my brothers hand while he cried hysterically. My red headed friend broke to our entrance halls floor. I started it all over again. He was the only one who looked me straight in the eye like I was still whole.

His too small apartment became hot when summer came. My hair was growing fast. We made coffee in the mornings and almost always remembered the milk. I moved to his apartment. He held my hand so fucking roughly, I couldn't run to my mom, even though I would've wanted. Some nights I went to the doctors, crying. They looked me in the eyes and nodded, pretending to understand. That was bullshit and I was trying to find happiness from a hellhole. I found my way to the gaming center and he taught me how to play his favorite games. We promised to forever love each other.

In the end nothing felt like anything. I missed my mom to my panic attacks. All the time. Then came December.

12.23.1995 I cried to my dad on the phone how I wanted to die to get to mom. He took me by the hand to the park where we hanged out, and he gave my hand to my dad, and we stole a Chirstmas tree from a guy who sold those. I laughed.

It became 1996 and I pretended that I was still laughing. I felt how all that drained in the shower. On january I wanted to run away from it and I married a booze bottle. He lost his touch with me, and didn't dare to look me into the eyes again. I decided to reorganize all of it. I ran from all of it slamming the doors, so I wouldn't have to hear him cry out his eyes in our too small apartment bedroom floor.

Year 1997. It was spring again and there was a blond mystery stuck in my arm. By the summer I lost myself as I lost him. In july the mystery told me he loved me. I worshipped the ground he was standing on.
Fall came, and I was awakened from hitting my head against the apartments walls in New York, while the mystery was looking for comfort from someone else. My life crashed again. Fall darkened to winter and I let my mystery fall into places I couldn't call. Calls for me ended as well and my life wasn't about the dates anymore... it was about the permilles.
I probably thought I could rule the world that way.
I felt broken when I realized that my mystery and I was in so different worlds.

Love was a funny joke we never learned to laugh at.

1998 and I was on my feet. He told me he still loved me by the time I was spitting around in the park where we used to hang. Mystery pissed on his own feet and I was happier than ever. I managed to break some other dudes heart before I learned to write the dates to my notebook right. The dude broke down and I was looking for my lost feelings around the city. I felt nothing. It was april again and he was the only one, who understood who I would be today. Two years, and he was ready to come for me. I still dreamed about the too small apartment where I used to make pancakes. The too small apartment where my mom would call me on Saturdays.

Two years later. I still miss my mom, but I won't scream to my dad on the phone or try to drown myself in the shower. He answered to my texts, worried and I wanted to say I was sorry for what I did in the 1996-1997. Mystery wasn't worth him. He was on my mind when I was in tears in my apartment floor. Mystery had fallen down, and I hope he never gets back up.

April 1998. I'm alive. I look in to the sky and miss home. I can't wait meeting him, and the mystery to regret what he did, and the dude getting his shit together.

Notes

this is really different from what I'm used to... wow