I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
Confused
I'm in serious shit, I feel totally lost
If I'm asking for help it's only because
Being with you has opened my eyes
Could I ever believe such a perfect surprise I drop Frank off in the most random spot, about halfway between our houses, I think. Amber also left us, claiming she was spending the night with a friend that lived around there. I have a feeling that someone is probably Frank or Ray. After Frank and my awkward exchanges of hugs, I get back in the car and drive home.
Mikey and I barely talk. I saw him kiss Amber’s cheek. He claims he doesn’t like her but I can’t believe that. I see that way he is around her. This only makes me angry. Yeah, I should be a good big brother and be happy for him but I can’t be. It’s fucking annoying.
I’m just upset. I need time to chill. Frank’s clinginess kinda caught me off guard as well. I’ve not had a drink in at least twelve hours and it’s making me stressed. Seriously all I need is sleep right now.
Frank. What did Frank mean by what he said? Loosen up? Am I tense or something? He was all over me tonight, and it was awkward, to say the least. He kept touching me whenever he got the chance, that smile of his appearing whenever he looked at me. I’m confused about it all. I mean, I’m flattered that I’m getting his attention, but I hadn’t really been asking for it at all.
I hate attention, in all seriousness. Like, if I was in a room, I'm the one all alone in all black going, ‘look at me’ and when everyone does, I instantly go, ‘no don’t look.’
I seek attention, but in reality, I hate it. I confuse myself sometimes.
Pulling into the driveway I park, and turn off the car. Mikey gets out, looking up at the stars for a minute before heading towards the front door. The both of us head downstairs trying to make as little noise as possible. Mom is probably already asleep and I’d feel really bad for waking her.
Mikey sits with his feet hanging off my bed, his back against the wall. He looks lost in thought as he starts up the Xbox, putting in his favorite game. Usually I’d ask if he wanted to talk about whatever he’s got going on but right now I’ve got bigger problems.
I sit down at my desk, mulling over what Frank could have possibly meant by what he said little over an hour ago.
"Loosen up..." I whisper to no one, hoping Mikey doesn’t hear.
I glance over at him…he’s lost in the video game.
“Loosen up…” I whisper again.
As in, respond to his attention, to do the same back to him? Is that okay for two guys to do to each other? I’m sure about that. I mean I’m pretty sure I’m into girls, and always had been. I mean I think Amber’s hot…kinda.
To be honest, I’m fucking confused. My sexuality has never been questioned before until now. I have no idea what to think or say about things. This is one of those moments where alcohol would help me think, but I force myself not to drink. Getting up I grab my cellphone and head up the stairs. Pulling the front door open I sit down on the steps trying to take in deep breaths. I’m losing it.
Flipping open my phone I hit the first number in my contacts.
“Hello?” Her accent fills my ears. She sounds tired but not annoyed. If there is anyone I can talk to about this it’s her. She just has a way of being able to handle situations.
“Am I gay?’ I blurt out, fighting off tears. I really wish I could just blackout and not have to think about this but I won't. I promised Mikey and I can't fuck up...not again. He needs me to hold it together for him.
“I don’t think you are. I mean…are you? Do you like guys, Gee?”
“Up until today I was positive I liked girls but with Frank hanging all over me…I don’t really know. Can guys have a friendship like that?”
“Frank is just ultra comfortable with himself. He gets a lot of crap from people but I think he’s learned not to care too much. His hanging is just him being happy, his acknowledging you as a friend. If it makes you uncomfortable just tell him. He’s used to being touchy…I let him be that way. Just let him know if it’s too much for you.”
I smile, taking a deep breath. There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s just Frank being Frank. If I can’t stop freaking out about it I’ll just ask him to not be so touchy. “Thanks,” I whisper.
“Gerard, know that if you are…gay or whatever that doesn’t change anything. You’ll still be my friend.”
For a while I don’t say anything, just listening to her breath over the phone. For some reason it's very calming; like sitting at the beach and listening to the waves.
“I saw your scars today,” I blurt out, instantly regretting my words. That’s something I should have let her come to me about. If she wanted to talk about it she would have come to me. “Shit. Sorry.”
Amber signs, “It’s okay. It’s really nothing, Gerard, please don’t worry.”
“You’re my friend Amber, I’m supposed to worry about you. You’re hurting yourself.”
“I really don’t wanna talk about it,” she answers back. “Will you please not talk about it? I don’t want the others to know. I’ve got it under control.”
“Will you please try to stop…for me? Hell, if not for me for Mikey or Frank or someone you care about.”
“I’ll do my best. Try and get some sleep. Don’t worry about the Frank thing, he doesn’t mean anything by it. Good night Gee.”
“Good night,” I answer back as the line goes dead.
Having no one to talk to and still being overwhelmed by tonight’s events I head back inside to my desk. Mikey is nowhere to be seen. I reach for my sketchpad and pen. After finding them, I start drawing, not really paying attention to what I am doing. I just trace the picture that is in my head onto the paper, and after an hour or so I can make out what it actually is and it fucking scares me. All the fear and confusion from earlier flooding back. I widen my eyes as I stare at it. It’s a picture of Frank and me, in close embrace, about to kiss on the mouth. Frank has a few scratches on his arm.
I flip out.
"What! The! Fuck!" I say, ripping the paper out of the book, crumpling it up and throwing it across the room.
I’m so fucking freaked out right now. Why is that going through my head? Why am I thinking of shit like that? Even after talking to Amber…nothing has been cleared up.
I flip off my chair, reaching under my bed for the half empty bottle of vodka I store there. I know I shouldn’t. I promised Mikey I’d stop. I can’t keep breaking my promises to him. It isn’t right. I can’t keep failing him as a brother.
"Stop!" I growl, throwing the bottle across the room, causing it to bounce off the wall with a loud bang before rolling off into my closet.
I can’t do it again. I have to be strong for Mikey. What would he say if he found out I lied to him again? He’d never trust me.
I pace back and forth across my room, hands on my head, freaking out. I want to talk to someone, work things out, but I don’t know who.
What is going on with me; with Frank? With us?! Are we friends, more than friends? Can we stay friends if I say he can't hang on me anymore? Do I tell him about this? Do I show him the drawing, or do I hide it, never to see the light of day again? All of these questions rush through my head at once, and I have no answers.
I fall to my knees, yelling into the carpet in anger, “Fuck!”
I punch the floor with my fists. I hate this, not knowing what to think or what to do about what is going on. I guess that is the curse of living in your own head; not being able to talk about things. I eventually stop punching the floor, and bite my lip, a nervous habit.
The one thing I know is that I have to talk to Frank about what he meant by his words. That is a given because those are more confusing than his actions.
I lift up my head and run my hand through my hair, getting it out of my face, taking a deep breath.
"Okay, Gerard, calm down..." I comfort myself, trying to steady my heartbeat. "You can get through this…without drinking."
I glance at the bottle at the edge of my closet door. I stare at it, and then shake my head, "No."
Getting up, I walk across my room, finding myself standing on top of the crumpled drawing. Curious, I un-crumple it, looking at it closely. At first glance, it just looks like Frank with a girl. I squint, looking closer, and I can see my own facial details on the feminine figure drawn on the paper. My eyes, nose, mouth, lips...if anyone knows me and looks at this, they’ll see what is going on in my head. This thought scares the living shit out of me.
Sighing, I stuff the paper in my desk drawer and prayed I will never see that ever again.
I crawl back onto my bed, lying on top of the covers.
I try to sleep but it doesn’t happen. Instead I just sit there, thoughts racing through my head, until eventually my eyes grow heavy and blackness surround me. My dreams, the effects of having no alcohol to ease the pain and hurt and confusion, are riddled with images of Frank and me.
If I'm asking for help it's only because
Being with you has opened my eyes
Could I ever believe such a perfect surprise I drop Frank off in the most random spot, about halfway between our houses, I think. Amber also left us, claiming she was spending the night with a friend that lived around there. I have a feeling that someone is probably Frank or Ray. After Frank and my awkward exchanges of hugs, I get back in the car and drive home.
Mikey and I barely talk. I saw him kiss Amber’s cheek. He claims he doesn’t like her but I can’t believe that. I see that way he is around her. This only makes me angry. Yeah, I should be a good big brother and be happy for him but I can’t be. It’s fucking annoying.
I’m just upset. I need time to chill. Frank’s clinginess kinda caught me off guard as well. I’ve not had a drink in at least twelve hours and it’s making me stressed. Seriously all I need is sleep right now.
Frank. What did Frank mean by what he said? Loosen up? Am I tense or something? He was all over me tonight, and it was awkward, to say the least. He kept touching me whenever he got the chance, that smile of his appearing whenever he looked at me. I’m confused about it all. I mean, I’m flattered that I’m getting his attention, but I hadn’t really been asking for it at all.
I hate attention, in all seriousness. Like, if I was in a room, I'm the one all alone in all black going, ‘look at me’ and when everyone does, I instantly go, ‘no don’t look.’
I seek attention, but in reality, I hate it. I confuse myself sometimes.
Pulling into the driveway I park, and turn off the car. Mikey gets out, looking up at the stars for a minute before heading towards the front door. The both of us head downstairs trying to make as little noise as possible. Mom is probably already asleep and I’d feel really bad for waking her.
Mikey sits with his feet hanging off my bed, his back against the wall. He looks lost in thought as he starts up the Xbox, putting in his favorite game. Usually I’d ask if he wanted to talk about whatever he’s got going on but right now I’ve got bigger problems.
I sit down at my desk, mulling over what Frank could have possibly meant by what he said little over an hour ago.
"Loosen up..." I whisper to no one, hoping Mikey doesn’t hear.
I glance over at him…he’s lost in the video game.
“Loosen up…” I whisper again.
As in, respond to his attention, to do the same back to him? Is that okay for two guys to do to each other? I’m sure about that. I mean I’m pretty sure I’m into girls, and always had been. I mean I think Amber’s hot…kinda.
To be honest, I’m fucking confused. My sexuality has never been questioned before until now. I have no idea what to think or say about things. This is one of those moments where alcohol would help me think, but I force myself not to drink. Getting up I grab my cellphone and head up the stairs. Pulling the front door open I sit down on the steps trying to take in deep breaths. I’m losing it.
Flipping open my phone I hit the first number in my contacts.
“Hello?” Her accent fills my ears. She sounds tired but not annoyed. If there is anyone I can talk to about this it’s her. She just has a way of being able to handle situations.
“Am I gay?’ I blurt out, fighting off tears. I really wish I could just blackout and not have to think about this but I won't. I promised Mikey and I can't fuck up...not again. He needs me to hold it together for him.
“I don’t think you are. I mean…are you? Do you like guys, Gee?”
“Up until today I was positive I liked girls but with Frank hanging all over me…I don’t really know. Can guys have a friendship like that?”
“Frank is just ultra comfortable with himself. He gets a lot of crap from people but I think he’s learned not to care too much. His hanging is just him being happy, his acknowledging you as a friend. If it makes you uncomfortable just tell him. He’s used to being touchy…I let him be that way. Just let him know if it’s too much for you.”
I smile, taking a deep breath. There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s just Frank being Frank. If I can’t stop freaking out about it I’ll just ask him to not be so touchy. “Thanks,” I whisper.
“Gerard, know that if you are…gay or whatever that doesn’t change anything. You’ll still be my friend.”
For a while I don’t say anything, just listening to her breath over the phone. For some reason it's very calming; like sitting at the beach and listening to the waves.
“I saw your scars today,” I blurt out, instantly regretting my words. That’s something I should have let her come to me about. If she wanted to talk about it she would have come to me. “Shit. Sorry.”
Amber signs, “It’s okay. It’s really nothing, Gerard, please don’t worry.”
“You’re my friend Amber, I’m supposed to worry about you. You’re hurting yourself.”
“I really don’t wanna talk about it,” she answers back. “Will you please not talk about it? I don’t want the others to know. I’ve got it under control.”
“Will you please try to stop…for me? Hell, if not for me for Mikey or Frank or someone you care about.”
“I’ll do my best. Try and get some sleep. Don’t worry about the Frank thing, he doesn’t mean anything by it. Good night Gee.”
“Good night,” I answer back as the line goes dead.
Having no one to talk to and still being overwhelmed by tonight’s events I head back inside to my desk. Mikey is nowhere to be seen. I reach for my sketchpad and pen. After finding them, I start drawing, not really paying attention to what I am doing. I just trace the picture that is in my head onto the paper, and after an hour or so I can make out what it actually is and it fucking scares me. All the fear and confusion from earlier flooding back. I widen my eyes as I stare at it. It’s a picture of Frank and me, in close embrace, about to kiss on the mouth. Frank has a few scratches on his arm.
I flip out.
"What! The! Fuck!" I say, ripping the paper out of the book, crumpling it up and throwing it across the room.
I’m so fucking freaked out right now. Why is that going through my head? Why am I thinking of shit like that? Even after talking to Amber…nothing has been cleared up.
I flip off my chair, reaching under my bed for the half empty bottle of vodka I store there. I know I shouldn’t. I promised Mikey I’d stop. I can’t keep breaking my promises to him. It isn’t right. I can’t keep failing him as a brother.
"Stop!" I growl, throwing the bottle across the room, causing it to bounce off the wall with a loud bang before rolling off into my closet.
I can’t do it again. I have to be strong for Mikey. What would he say if he found out I lied to him again? He’d never trust me.
I pace back and forth across my room, hands on my head, freaking out. I want to talk to someone, work things out, but I don’t know who.
What is going on with me; with Frank? With us?! Are we friends, more than friends? Can we stay friends if I say he can't hang on me anymore? Do I tell him about this? Do I show him the drawing, or do I hide it, never to see the light of day again? All of these questions rush through my head at once, and I have no answers.
I fall to my knees, yelling into the carpet in anger, “Fuck!”
I punch the floor with my fists. I hate this, not knowing what to think or what to do about what is going on. I guess that is the curse of living in your own head; not being able to talk about things. I eventually stop punching the floor, and bite my lip, a nervous habit.
The one thing I know is that I have to talk to Frank about what he meant by his words. That is a given because those are more confusing than his actions.
I lift up my head and run my hand through my hair, getting it out of my face, taking a deep breath.
"Okay, Gerard, calm down..." I comfort myself, trying to steady my heartbeat. "You can get through this…without drinking."
I glance at the bottle at the edge of my closet door. I stare at it, and then shake my head, "No."
Getting up, I walk across my room, finding myself standing on top of the crumpled drawing. Curious, I un-crumple it, looking at it closely. At first glance, it just looks like Frank with a girl. I squint, looking closer, and I can see my own facial details on the feminine figure drawn on the paper. My eyes, nose, mouth, lips...if anyone knows me and looks at this, they’ll see what is going on in my head. This thought scares the living shit out of me.
Sighing, I stuff the paper in my desk drawer and prayed I will never see that ever again.
I crawl back onto my bed, lying on top of the covers.
I try to sleep but it doesn’t happen. Instead I just sit there, thoughts racing through my head, until eventually my eyes grow heavy and blackness surround me. My dreams, the effects of having no alcohol to ease the pain and hurt and confusion, are riddled with images of Frank and me.
@KidFromYesterday
Yay!!! Thank you, this story has been really great, as well as your others!!
10/2/16