I'm kind of miserable, too

We both gained our composure after a while, and then it was only silence. I realized that sometimes neither time nor "talking it out" helps healing pain. Just a few moments of silence, as if we were dead. And we were dead, indeed. I decided to break the silence, unsure of what to do.

"We should go out. A new coffee shop opened nearby." I suggested quietly, and gave him a weak smile. I felt relief when he returned the smile. Gerard could never turn down a coffee invitation.

"Let's go now, then." He said and then got up, ready to go, but I stopped him.

"You can't go out like that" I pointed out, giving him a clean T-shirt from his wardrobe. He certainly hadn't changed his clothes in a while. They had beer stains, not like all his clothes weren't already stained from the alcohol or smelled strongly like the cheap cigarettes he smoked all the time. He knew it was unhealthy, but he didn't care at all. Neither did I. We all have our bad habits. After he got changed, we were on our way to the coffee shop.

Streets were busy in New Jersey. There were a lot of angry drivers who were always ready to run over people who stood in their way to McDonald's, as far as I know. I was obviously ready to get ran over, but maybe only after I made Gerard happy with some coffee.
We walked together, looking in every shop window, listening to music played by street artists, we even watched a man paint a beautiful sunset. I've never seen a sunset with my own eyes, and neither did Gerard, I guess. We both spent a lot of time in his basement. I love listening to him sing, or help him write some songs, or I would just watch him draw. His drawings were dark, so dark, but I'm guessing that's just how he worked.

We arrived at the cafe shortly and took a seat. The place looked great! The walls were covered in paintings of greatest bands and musicians, and speaking of music, there was David Bowie playing. Gerard surely loved it! That was my mission in the first place, right? -making Gerard happy.
That’s what I’ve always done, try and take Gerard’s pain and somehow transfer it to me, if I couldn’t get rid of it all. And I couldn’t, but I didn’t care. I was happy if he was, too.

“That’s friendship goals, right?” I asked myself, without realizing I was thinking out loud.

“I was talking about David Bowie, but I guess you didn’t listen. And yeah, we sure are friendship goals for some miserable bastards.” He laughed bitterly. I did it again. I'd upset him.

“I’m sor-” I tried to apologize but he cut me off and squeezed my hand. Yeah, we might be miserable bastards, but we certainly completed each other, in some way... He looked prepared to say something, but the waitress brought our coffees. They smelled amazing, but all I wanted was to watch Gerard drink from his mug. I love the way he closed his eyes when he first drank coffee, and somehow all the frustration and bitterness were gone. He took a while to taste the coffee, then placed the mug gently on the table and looked at me with the most genuine look I’ve seen, but then he looked away. He was looking at the paintings on the walls, at the bell above the door which rang every time they had a new customer, at the colorful mugs on every table, at every couple sharing a coffee, at the waitresses and their fake lipstick-covered smiles. He was looking at everything but me. Something bothered him. I didn’t ask what. I couldn’t ask, because I had a brief idea of what was going on with him, and I couldn’t help him. This time, it was his mission to make himself happy.

“I have an idea. Follow me.” He got up when he finished drinking his coffee. He took my hand and we both left the café, after we paid, of course. I didn’t know where we were going, but I trusted him, as I always did. I could never question him or his intentions, and neither his feelings. And that’s how our relationship always went. We left space for each other's decisions and never questioned whether they were good or not. I was there for him whenever he was dead drunk and suicidal, and he always left his house door unlocked for me whenever I couldn't stand living in my own house anymore.

And so we were walking on the busy streets of New Jersey again. We were holding hands, not like lovers, but soul mates, passing carelessly by the angry drivers honking their cars, none bothering us anymore. It was just me and him, and he looked excited to reach wherever he was taking me to.
We had been walking for what seemed to be ages, when Gerard finally stopped and I woke up from my trance. I have always lived inside my own head. Whether I was doing, a part of my mind was elsewhere, like a great wall that traveled by my side to protect me. I wanted to escape reality more than anything. I hated reality. I hated feeling and as a matter of fact, feelings were too, slight parts of your mind. Therefore, they make you who you are, or at least what you seem to be. Like those angry drivers, the fake-smiling waitresses and these two depressed, miserable bastards that me and Gerard were. And even though a wall can protect you from the inside world, pain is nothing more than a war in your own mind, a conflict that seems endless. A battle whose only loss is the said host. You struggle to fight with yourself, deciding if you should live or not. It’s sad that we let our selfish brain decide our fate.
We were in the park. Gerard brought us two in the park, and we sat on the bench right beneath the tree where my bird lived. And it was still there. It hadn’t left me. At least I had two allies for the battle. I knew for sure that at least one of them will never leave me behind, not even after the battle ends.

“Thank you” I told him so quiet he didn’t hear me. He was once again studying everything surrounding- the old trees, the falling golden leaves, the lonely swing that seemed so far away; and then at me. He was looking at me happily. He wasn’t smiling, but I knew he was happy and I was happy too. Strange, how small things can make you feel more contented than the big moments of your life. That’s life- so strange.

Notes

It's kind of short, but I tried. I'm still completely ecstatic because I got subscribers and positive comments, and I'm pretty sure it's not my mental health playing a prank on me (It usually does that...I'm happy or sad all the time without a reason. There's nothing in between). Anyways. Thank you. C: