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Gerard

Babe's Burgers at 4. Babe's Burgers at 4. Babe's Burgers at 4. Babe's Burgers at 4.

I couldn't get that place and time out of my head. Of course as soon as he suggested we meet I said yes, but I probably shouldn't have. I look like fucking Casper from not sleeping enough and my head is just so messed up with any mention of Frank. Why did I think this was good? Why do I think anything that I do is good?

Before I walked out of the door to my house, I noticed a small pocket picture of my dad sitting on the counter. One from when he was in the Air Force, probably close to 30 years back. He was strapped in his uniform and had a faint smile even though it seemed he should've been more professional. I had done all this because of him, I thought only for a moment, but then corrected myself.

No, it was because of myself, because of my personal issues and how I could never talk to my parents enough. It was because of my goddamn BPD and my own insecurities. I could've agreed to therapy, I could've worked it out with my parents, I could've made an effort a long time ago, but here I am, eighteen and useless.

I took the photo and slid it in my wallet before walking out. As I got in my car, I started taking deep breaths to calm myself down. Driving was always calming to me, even during rush hours. I just liked the idea of getting somewhere I guess, and so the drive to the burger joint really calmed me down.

Getting off the car, though, my legs became heavy again, and I had to stop myself from getting back in and driving off. I got off and looked at the fluorescent sign that said "Babe's Burgers" in cursive before walking into the restaraunt. I turned slowly, scanning the booths for Frank. I saw a hand raise up in a small wave, and peered towards it to see Frank at a table booth, looking at me with a nervous smile. I smiled back, if not just as nervous than ten times more.

As I sat down at the table he was at, the waitress came up and took our drink orders. I got a coffee, and Frank ordered a coke. The lady walked away, and I finally got the guts to look at Frank's face.

Frank had an expression of the ocean after a storm. He looked worn, and a bit like he wanted to cry, but nonetheless just as captivating. I wish I was edgy enough to carry around a Polaroid, because I would've taken ten consecutive photos of his face and made twenty art blogs just to post them on with an edgy caption in French that literally just said "the most beautiful man."

"Uh, hey Gerard" Frank said, laughing softly as if he was scared to. He must've caught that I was lost in thought, and with how he knows me, I bet he guessed it was weird.

"Hey! Hello, um, yeah how's it, how's it going?" I replied back, pulling my cheeks down out of embarrassment afterwards. "Sorry, I just, I thought about how to talk to you, and I had conversations completely spoken out in my head, and these topics to bring up in case it gets awkward. But in this moment, I saw you and I kinda just went blank like the complete idiot I am."

Frank laughed, a more genuine laugh than before. "You're not an idiot, at least not a complete one" Frank said in my defense, well partly my defense, "and I'm not doing so great to be completely honest with you, seeing as I've always ever wanted to be honest with you. I'm sorry for inviting you here, I feel dumb for doing it now, but I felt like if I didn't we'd never go up to one another again."

I was going to tell him that wasn't true, but knowing how much of a coward I am with my feelings he's probably right. "You don't have to apologize, I've been wanting to talk to you after, well after the night I-"

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⏰ Letzte Aktualisierung: Dec 31, 2016 ⏰

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