I Don't Love You

I'm a Thousand Miles Away

September 23.

Two years, three months after Vegas.

There are boxes in my background again. I don't even bother hiding them. I don't want to cover it up, I don't want to lie to Gerard.

Inevitably, he asks, "You're moving again?"

I shake my head slowly. "No. Derek is."

Gerard's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Congrats. I'm happy for you guys."

"No." I glance back at the stacks of boxes lining the bedroom wall. Most of them are already full, just waiting for their owner to retrieve them. "He's not moving in. He's moving out."

"Oh." Gerard's face falls. "Dude, what happened? I thought things were going okay."

"They were," I admit, shrugging. "Honestly, I don't know what happened. We were happy, everything was going great."

When I don't say any more, Gerard prompts, "But..."

"But then Derek told me he loved me."

Gerard frowns. "You didn't say it back."

"Nope."

"Why not?" he wonders. "I mean, you were so happy the last time we Skyped."

"I was happy," I tell him. Letting out a slow breath, I lean back in my chair. "I was perfectly fine with how everything was. But when Derek told me he loved me, I panicked... I couldn't honestly say it back. And we tried for awhile, I tried really fucking hard to love him, but I just... don't."

"You broke up," Gerard finishes for me. "I'm so sorry."

I shrug. "I don't want to talk about it," I tell him. I wipe at the tears that have started stinging my eyes. I will not cry, dammit. I gesture to the computer screen, refusing to look directly at him. "Let's talk about something good. Oh, you were dating that girl! How's that going?"

Silence.

When I glance at the screen, Gerard's face falls. It's like watching a building collapse in on itself, the instantaneous tragedy. He looks broken. "Not good. Not at all, actually. She broke up with me."

"Gee." I lean forward, wishing suddenly that I could just reach through the screen and hug him. But I can't do that. I settle with another sigh. "What happened?"

He's quiet for a long moment, looking down, and it's almost inaudible when Gerard says, "We had sex."

It feels like someone punched me in the gut. The air and words escape me, leaving me opening and closing my mouth without saying a single thing. I'm not sure what I would say if capable.

Eventually, Gerard rubs his hand over his face and says, "Ryan said that he has sex with Brendon. It's not that he doesn't like it, he just isn't into it the way his boyfriend is. But he does it anyway because it makes Brendon happy, because sometimes it's nice to feel close to him in that way." His nose wrinkles up and his eyes are cast down, the sadness still evident in them. It looks like he's reliving the moment now and it fucking hurts that I can't make his pain go away.

"So I thought that I could do it, too. I wanted to, I wanted to show Lindsey that I loved her. But I couldn't do it. It started out okay; it was awkward, but it wasn't horrible. But then it just... it got bad. I wanted to stop."

"Gee," I say slowly. "Gerard, tell me she didn't--"

Sensing where my thoughts are going, Gerard shakes his head fiercely. "No! Geez, Frankie. No, she didn't force me to do anything. But she wasn't happy when I stopped. She decided she couldn't be with someone who would probably never want to have sex with her. So she left."

"I'm sorry," I tell him. "Gerard, you deserve so much better than that."

"That's the thing," Gerard says, and when he looks up again, his eyes are wet. "I loved her. I didn't want better, I wanted her."

"I know." I have that urge to hug him again. "I know it sucks. But it's gonna get better, okay? Trust me."

We don't say anything else, but we sit together in our grief, mourning our own broken relationships. We're still thousands of miles apart, but it's better than being alone.