Dear Universe, Up Yours!

Chapter 20

Gerard took the notebook back out so that he had a surface to write on.

It was a pretty bumpy ride as I had tried to think what to write. I stared at the words on the paper I wrote, the only words, that were just "dear Gerard." I tapped the top of the pencil on the paper persistently, my eyes now trailing to Gerard as his hands moved quickly from each side of his paper.

He looked extremely focused and the motion of his hand gripping the yellow #2 pencil became faster. It was like as if he planned to write these letters before so he has had all the words in his mind already. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, and the only time he'd stop writing was when he'd bring the top of the pencil to his lip to slightly nibble the metal ferrule as his eyes would travel left to right and up and down across the paper, reading over what he did write. And then, he went back to writing.

I wasn't sure what to write. But I never wanted to read Gerard's, no matter how many secrets or how many things he wanted to tell me. I don't want to read it because that'll just mean he's dead. That's the point of these letters, right? To have a legacy of one another? A piece of them if they're fallen?

I looked out the window, staring at the river and green that would disappear at the corner of the window. I looked back at the blinding white paper, empty, with nothing but a name.

Gerard was too focused on what he was writing that he didn't notice I've been watching him the whole time instead. It's a beautiful thing, actually, to watch somebody busy at work. Fascinating, if you will. His focused eyes and pursed lips were something I admired in the process, as well as his pointy nose that would scrunch every time he flipped the pencil to erase the unwanted graphite off of the white sheet. Gerard was amazingly something.

What if I died, I thought. What if we ran from the cops or somebody wanted to get us for some money reward and I didn't make it? I couldn't leave Gerard with nothing. It'll be unfair if he has something for me and I don't. But I truly want to believe we won't die, I really do. Or at least, one of us. I'd die with him. And that'll be okay. If there was an end for me by fate, if my time was done, it'd be easily acceptable if I was on the ground beside Gerard, his limp hand on mine. I could accept that.

I'm not going to leave Gerard with nothing. I can't.

I started to think about the words I wanted to put on the page. And then, soon enough after I'd written a few sentences, I decided not to stop to think about what I was writing and just wrote everything on my mind. And it wasn't some "okay, now think about Gerard" kind of deal in my brain. My mind would always travel away from everything, anything, but when it'd naturally trail to Gerard, I feel like I can't stop entirely thinking about him. He was so important to me. I still couldn't figure out why, why? I like him a lot, he cares about me. But there's something more than that, I know.

I stopped my pencil, reading what I've written so far. It was mostly about what I had thought about just now.

Sighing, I looked up at Gerard again, who was still writing. What is he writing, anyway? He doesn't need to write this much. It's not like I'd read it ever in my life. Simply, because I won't let him die. I can't do that to him. I can't do that to myself.

He stopped his pencil, slowly and carefully lifting it off the paper, moving his head up from down at his letter to my face, which I had thought almost froze.

I finally blinked, moving my position a little. "So um... are you done?" I asked him, assuming by his sudden stop.

"No, no," he answered. "I just... wanted to take a break," he said, placing the notebook and paper beside him. "Besides, we can write and add more later anyway. We'll have to finish these, though. Have you finished or close to done?"