It All Started With Women's Rights -Frerard-

Life Is What You Make It

I knew it was burning hot in the house because Gerard wouldn't shut up about how his house heater was on crack. But I was so cold. I didn't know why. I just felt so cold and broken and lost. I knew I was grieving, that was obvious to the extreme. I wasn't hungry. I couldn't believe anything I said. Gerard kept spouting facts for me so I knew what I could believe. Sometimes usually followed by a question.

"It's 26 degrees outside!"

"My favorite radio show is on tonight, you should listen to it with me."

"Wendy's is close to our house, want me to get you a burger while I'm out?"

"Frank your shivering! There's a blanket right by you! Why are you so cold? It's 76 in here..."

Gerard has seen me cry almost every night leading up to the funeral, hosted by my aunt. She wouldn't have liked her funeral. It was dull, boring, nothing resembled her life. I spoke, crying the whole time. I recalled a memory of us when I was 14 and she was the only one there for me in times of crisis- aka when our school went up in flames and I was the one who was being blamed for it, even though I wasn't at school that day.

Some smiled through their tears to recall how kind and stern she was at the same time. She was perfect to some.

We didn't stay after for dinner at my Grandma's. She never liked me, and she wouldn't like the fact that I had a boyfriend who was older than me. Gerard drive us to a quaint diner in a small town near the cemetery she wanted to be buried in.

"Frank. Frank!" Gerard grabbed my hand.

That or he was already holding it and the feeling just came back into my hand. I looked up at him and his expression was soft and caring, but with a hint of concern. I tried to half smile.

"Frank, honey," he tried.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, baby, but what's up?"

I stayed silent and he sighed, letting his head drop a little. It started raining outside and I sighed, leaning back in my seat.

"Have you ever felt so empty and alone even though you are deeply loved and always with someone?"

"I can say that I have." He replied.

I continued, "That's how I feel. Like a shell. I have no appetite. I don't really sleep. I'm always so cold..."

Gerard was trying to distract me and made this comment, "It's been said that you get warmer faster if you don't have so many layers.."

"Gerard," I sighed, "I love you, but sex isn't going to help."

He looked beaten, "I'm sorry, Frank, I just... I want to help. What can I do?"

I smiled, talking quietly, "You're already doing so much. You're loving me, talking to me, reminding me I don't live in a fantasy. You help me so much just by being in my line of sight."

He smiled back, "Oh, Frank,"

I pecked his lips and the waitress came over to our booth. I ordered tea, because coffee gives me horrible panic attacks, and an egg breakfast sandwich. I didn't hear Gerard order what he did, but the waitress came back with a black coffee and corn beef hash. Strange man.

"Go on and eat, Frankie. You'll feel at least a little better."

I did as told and for once I could taste what I ate. And it tasted good. The toast was crisp, the egg salted, and the avocado ripe. It felt good going down and rested nicely.

Now I was starving.

"Don't eat so much though, Frank. You'll make yourself sick."

He had to monitor me until my eating was back to normal. I felt 59% better than I did. I was still sad, but I felt like if something were really funny, sweet, or cute, I could probably react like a normal human.

As of now, we were at home listening to Nirvana's Nevermind. Gerard was sweet enough to buy it for me. He said it was his happy gift for me. I could hear him singing as he cleaned the kitchen and I just sat on the breakfast bar, watching his horrid dancing and beautiful voice.

Gerard... where do I even begin with him? He's been by my side through it all. And now? Now I've graduated from that hell of a school. He's a doll, really. He'll go teach writing and come back to rant about how stupid kids are. I'd laugh, kissing him somewhere. He was my little angel. He made me feel beautiful and inspired me to get off my ass and make my life worth living. He was just that way.

He wasn't bad in bed, that's for sure. But when we were in public, he finally got used to not having to worry about other students seeing us. Who did they have to kill? He would hold my hand, hold my waist, touch my back, kiss me... he was such a gentleman, too.

He was my true love.

We had been dating for about a year now and that was amazing. I could tell from the one year anniversary that I wanted to be with him forever. We had done some counseling before with us to make sure our relationship wasn't unhealthy, and not to our surprise, some things were, and we fixed those things. We didn't really have friends, so that didn't stop us from anything. We volunteered at the women's rights fair with his family. It was great. It was the place that we met and the best thing ever.

I got a red guitar, too. And hell, it was nostalgic. I played a few songs for Gerard and he asked me to sing for him. I only knew a few songs that I could sing along to. I thought my voice was horrendous, but he thought otherwise. He makes remarks about starting a band and me playing guitar and him singing.

It wasn't a bad idea, but I was just a clumsy 19 year old who had too much energy and angst. And he was a teacher! He couldn't just up and leave his class. Then again, he did say a lot of people were up for his job...

I waved my thoughts away.

Now was perfect. We had a new house. We got a dog and named him Sir. Just Sir. He was really cute. We got him from a shelter. He was about to be put down just because no one wanted an albino pit bull. It was so sad. He really liked the Ghostbuster movies. He was an equally weird dog to us.

Our neighbor, Ray, was a nice guy and we invited him over for dinner tonight. That's why Gerard was- interpretive dancing to Come As You Are..? Wow, I love him.

He came over, sliding on the tile, and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing me. I giggled, "This isn't Nirvana On Ice, Gee."

"It is now!" He sang.

He yanked me off the breakfast bar and forced me to slow dance with him. I put my head to his chest and let him take the lead. He sang softly and the feeling of his chest vibrating was comforting. He stopped dancing and just held me for a moment.

"I've only ever had a handful of lovers, Frank, and you are the only one that feels like home." He spoke suddenly.

I smiled, "My first and only love."

He chuckled, pulling away slightly to look at me, "You are my only true love, too, Romeo."

I laughed, putting my head back on his chest, "There's something's you don't know about me, Gerard, that I'd like to tell you."

"Did you kill a man just to watch him die?"

"When I was twelve."

"Frank Anthony Iero." He fake gasped.

I chuckled, "That's not it, though."

"Then what?" He asked.

"You helped me trust myself again. I finally feel like I can do something and it won't all go to shit because you taught me somethings, believe it or not."

"Well I better have. You did graduate highest in my class."

"Gerard," I whined.

"I get it, darling. You helped me realize that life is worth living. Life is-"

"-what you make it." We said in unison.

He squeezed me, "Exactly."

He kissed me to the ending of the album, sharing words of love. Words of praise. All in between kisses.

I found a home. A lover. And my will to live.

And it all started with women's rights.