"Fuck, Gerard, fuck, my god, fuck...."

Needless to say, despite the fuck ups, and the absolutely headache this 'relationship' had caused me, I knew for sure that he was a good enough fuck to virtually wish that all away, even if it was just momentarily, but when you were walking on ice as thin as this, everything single fucking moment seemed to matter, and I couldn't help but wonder how we'd gotten here sometimes, but I knew that, we could never settle for anything else, because maybe I was just a little crazy too.

Gerard stopped momentarily, eyes growing wide as he grinned up at me, leaving me moaning at his name and resulting to grabbing his hair and pushing his pretty little mouth back onto me, and oh god, why he'd ever stopped, I could never understand, because this was perfect, and perhaps even just perfect enough to hide everything else behind the curtain for just a while.

"God, this is so fucking good, I love you, fuck I need this, fuck, Gee, please, fucking-"

He shut me up for sure, pulling his tongue down me and at an over exaggeratedly slow pace too, and dear god he was such a fucking tease and I could kill him for it, but really I’d never even consider it once in a million years, because despite how little I wanted to admit it, it was true, and Gerard Way was really all I had left, and perhaps that was why this blowjob seemed like the most important thing that I'd even experienced in my whole entire life.

Or perhaps that was just generally quite sad.

But it was most definitely a very good blowjob.

Gerard squeezed onto my hips, his fingernails digging in tight enough to ensure that he left marks that I'd never be able to forget, and he grinned around me, as he felt my hips buckle a little into his grip, knowing my body well enough to know just how close I was, and I knew his asshole of a personality well enough to know just how much he would tease me from now.

And for one moment it all just stopped as the redhead pulled his mouth away, simply grinning up at me and giggling a little at how hard I was, only to sit down crossed legged on the bed, and leave me there, wide eyed and oh so goddamn fucking needy.

I wasn't going to take this for an answer, though, I wasn't going to be ignored, and especially not by Gerard Way, and that left him very little morning before I had shoved myself down that pretty little throat of his, and dear god, it felt like heaven and hell intertwined to feel him so turned on and startled: gasping and heaving as he began to suck the tip, my hands forced his back onto my lips, letting him to continue to do what he was best at, and perhaps even let me come in the process, because really, that would be awfully nice of such an asshole like him.

And then, before I could even recognise what was happening, everything was happening: I was coming down his fucking throat and he was pulling my hand down to his dick in order to finish himself off, and dear god, there was nothing better than the two of us coming together and the elevated feeling that would follow as we lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for half an hour, before someone (usually me) got forced into getting up and getting dressed in order to bring up some food and pick out a CD to kill off the empty silence his room filled with.

But just this once, it wasn't like that, and fuck, it just felt weird, and that was how I came to know almost instantly that something absolutely terrible was occurring, and the look in Gerard's eyes sealed the deal.

"What's wrong?" And he was just denying it moments after the words had escaped my lips, and fuck, this was ridiculous, and maybe he was right last night in saying that we were ridiculous: this once it seemed that a quick fuck hadn't allowed everything to fade away, not at all.

"Me." He was nonchalant enough to break my heart, and really I was lost for words, and resulted to staring wide eyed at my red haired boyfriend and the way he avoided my gaze like the plague, or perhaps just for fear of me reaction. But in the silence, with eventuality, he continued. "I'm wrong, because I'm fucking us all up, and nothing even helps anymore, and you just won't listen to me, no matter how many times I tell you that you're too good for me, and I really kind of hate that, Frank."

"You're perfect, Gerard." It seemed so generic, and it seemed so useless, but it was the only thing that I could think to say, and I knew that we both regretted this whole conversation at entirely the same time, bit we could never go back on it now, and perhaps Gerard hated that more than himself, but I never could hate anything more than I hated the fact that Gerard hated himself.

"I'm not."

And that was how I knew that I'd let the world down, because everyone had always seemed to tell me that I was the one person that could get through to Gerard and try and change things with him, but now even that seemed entirely hopeless, because I couldn't - not at all. And I juts hadn't just let us down; I'd let everybody down, because I’d failed and I could do nothing about how Gerard felt and about how Gerard acted.

"I'm trying, Gee, I'm fucking trying, and I fucking hate that you're not - you know that?" And it was precisely then that everything seemed to fall apart as I completely let go of just about all dignity and just about everything as I left myself face to face with my boyfriend and the 'I hate you' look on his face, it seemed that perhaps I'd messed this up for the final time.

"Yeah, I fucking know." He snapped too, getting up from the bed before me, for once, and pulling on his clothes, and I hated how that the only time that he actually changed things around was to fuck me up, was to fuck himself up, and was to fuck us, and everything up.

Because maybe we were everything, or at least that was what it felt like to me.

"Gerard-" I thought maybe I should plead with him: try and tell him that, try and hold onto my boyfriend, because the hoodie he'd thrown on was making it all too clear that he was leaving not just the room, but the house, and god fucking knows when I'd see him again.

"No." He didn't let me, though, and really, I didn't know what I'd expected in the first place.

I turned away from him for a minute, pulling my clothes on in the hopes of following him, but as I did so and turned back around he was just stood at the door: his eyes sad, more than anything, and not a word to leave his lips, and I wondered if the silence would last forever, but it didn't, and perhaps that was worse, but perhaps I didn't even know anything anymore, because now, we were just nothing short of a mess.

"Don't, Frank." His words had my gaze jerking up to meet his, and that was when I saw the tears in his eyes, and when I really needed to, I couldn't say anything at all, and maybe, just somehow, that would be what killed us both. "Don't fucking tell me you love me. You don't, and even if you’re made enough to think that you do..." He sighed out, stopping: his breath heavy and his words weighted in his chest. "Don't say it. I don't want to hear it, Frank. I can't."

-

And my biggest mistake was sitting in silence for almost twenty minutes after he'd left.

Time just seemed to slow down and everything seemed to fade out into nothing as I considered the multitude of mistakes I'd just made and even just how spectacularly we'd screwed up all over again.

Maybe Gerard was even right to say that we were working and that I didn't love him, and perhaps it was just easier to believe him, and just let us go our separate ways, and maybe my life would be easier without this mess, but I couldn't lie, I couldn't lie like Gerard could, and especially not to myself.

Perhaps this was just destined to happen, perhaps this was just my cue to leave - to get the fuck out of his life, but on more permanent terms, and maybe I was the only one with problems accepting reality. Or maybe this was just fucking with my head, but I didn't know if I even cared anymore.

I just wanted things to go back to normal, and to go back to the first time we'd kissed in that stupid fucking forest and for the first time I found something to call perfect. But as I found myself falling back through the mess of memories, I found myself watching something perfect rot and decay into something truly broken and tragic.

And maybe that was how it was always destined to be, because if anyone knew that happy endings didn't exist, it most certainly was me, and god, fuck, I was just too scared; I was too scared to even try going after him, I just wanted to sit here and wait it out for hours or days even until he finally came back and found me still sat there on his bed, and then maybe we could have another chance and pretend just for a while that things would work out this time, but even Gerard hated lying, more than I did, it seemed, because I was all too prepared to pretend all over again.

I didn't even know where he'd go or what would become of us now, and somehow it seemed that I was even arrogant to consider that to be something important and worthwhile, because the blame was on me - it was all on me. 

Him walking out was my fault - it was my words that had driven him out, and I broken a million promises to just about everyone as I let him do so, as I gave up, and as I came to realise that despite what everybody seemed to say, I couldn't save him, and perhaps even nobody could, but I knew for certain that there was most definitely no hope in saving us either.

Giving up was easy, and I had decided that after the fifteen minute mark: the fifteen minutes I stayed sat on his bed, and not a word or even emotion evident anywhere in me.

Giving up was easy and it seemed to just about be the only thing I was at all good at.

His family would blame me and his family would hate me because I'd let him go and I'd given up and I'd broken the most important promise that I'd made to Mrs Way, and it barely even lasted twenty four hours, but I was alone now.

I was so fucking alone, not just alone in the house, but this was the end of something, something important and something dreadful and anyone could tell that, but it seemed to chime out in a melancholic fashion throughout my body, almost like the toll of a church bell at a funeral, or the beep of a life support machine in a coma I could never break out of.

And it was just the matter of getting up and stopping this, and calling my boyfriend and apologising that would make this fine, and we'd be okay again, but we'd be fake again, and we'd always be fake, and he was right to say that I couldn't do this anymore, it seemed it had just taken for to long for me to accept.

That decided it: my decision to stay sat on his bed forever, until my cellphone began to ring and my heart seemed to jump right out my chest as I prayed that it would be Gerard, and I'd almost convinced myself that it'd be Gerard, right up until I saw 'Bert' displayed upon the caller I.D., and my heart practically fell from my chest.

But I answered regardless, because I was alone, and because I was empty, and really, I just had nothing left.

"Frank? Fuck, are you there? Frank?" Bert's words seemed to explode down the phone line with both urgency and panic enough to kick start a few brain cells that had shut off as Gerard left and everything truly fell apart, but now, compared to Bert's voice down the phone, that felt like nothing at all.

"Yeah. I'm here. What's wrong?" I asked, biting down on my lip as I began to cycle through the possibility in an anxiety induced train of thought, but ultimately to no avail as I found my mind drifting throughout nothingness as all the likely possibilities, I had deemed far too frightening to even approach.

"Where's Gerard?" And then came my least favourite question in the world, and really one that had been asked far too many times, and just enough to make me absolutely despite its entire existence with great passion, but as I struggled to answer I found everything falling apart again as at first I could respond with nothing more than silence.

"I don't know. He just walked out. We had a fight and he just walked out."

"Fuck, Frank, I... fuck, I don't want this to be what it might be, but we need to find him, because Gerard's just sent me the message 'I'm finally going to be gone now. You're welcome. Goodbye'. And I..."

"Fuck, do you? You don't actually, I-"

"I know him, Frank. This is him, and this is him trying to kill himself."

-

Not a single noise, not a single fucking word made its way into my ears or meant anything at all as I found myself wandering through the forest, looking for my possibly dead boyfriend with no hope or no clue what to do.

Bert had gone the other way and Mikey was coming over right now, but I could barely even focus my eyes upon the ground in front of me, let alone, finding him, because as stupid as it sounded, and as horrible of a person it made me seem, I could find the motivation to care at all.

I felt like a ship already sunk, and the waves were here just to taunt me, and it was inescapable and I wasn't breathing anymore, but that seemed to be the absolute least of my worries.

It just didn't feel real - this all felt like some crazy messed up dream because barely hours ago we were in bed and we were- and now we were nothing, and now he's messed us all up by creating some messed up elaborate scheme to gain sympathy and attention, and I hated it, because I had to force myself to care, and I found that beyond hope right now.

All there was left was to just keep walking and to just keep hoping that he'd turn up sat against some fucking tree trunk rolling his eyes at me with that stupid fucking red hair and a pretty little face I could punch until he punched me back and I could be absolutely sure that he was real and that we were real and then maybe, maybe I'd try again with us, because he just played us all like cards into his hands, and his intentions were now so crystal clear as to what they'd been all along.

I couldn't say I hated him though, because I was still scared and I was scared like hell, because the stupid little 'what if's and the stupid little possibilities kept cropping up as my mind continued to kill itself over the mindfuck that was my boyfriend, or really, ex-boyfriend.

We'd been clear on that, and maybe that was why he texted Bert, because maybe Bert was supposed to care, and not me, and maybe I wasn't even supposed to worry about him and his fucking messed up head and maybe it was supposed to be Bert chasing after him and finding him scowling somewhere in cafe and then for them to kiss and fuck to make up and shit and maybe I was just suppose to forget, just supposed to move on, and just supposed to leave him the fuck alone.

He’d been too clear; he'd been entirely too clear about that one.

And I hated it, and I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't: try as I might, but I couldn't and this was all a fucking death-trap and I knew that, but I couldn't. Not now, not ever, no matter what.

And then I saw him, and just as soon as that I came to wish that I hadn't: because racing towards the unmissable bright red hair or my asshole of a boyfriend, only brought the reality that he wasn't liar, not this time, anyway.

He lay still on the floor, not breathing by sight and I couldn't bring myself to really check: the empty box of pills beside him were evidence enough and the torn up bit of notebook paper he scribbled what I could only deem to be his note lay beside him as the only thing left of Gerard Way.

And it took me minutes of standing there in the silence that just didn't make this feel real at all, as I couldn't even bring myself to cry: everything just stopped and I just stood there helpless and hoping that this was all a messed up joke, and that he'd get up and laugh at me.

But he didn't, and he never would, and in acceptance of that, I leaned down to pick up the note, only to read the words scribbled in oversized handwriting across the page: 'I love you. I'm sorry, but you deserve better and you're far too stubborn, but we both are, and this how it has to end, for us now anyway. We could be so in love but not like this. It's goodbye, but not really, just remember, if it ever gets too much, you can run away with me anytime you want.'

And, then, for the first time that day, I started crying.

But from then on, I don't think I ever stopped.

-

Hey guys:') Well... I'm sorry, I guess:') Just wait for the epilogue before killing me though, okay, it's important. If you 'enjoyed' this, votes and comments are appreciated:') I love you all<3