My room was a nightmare covered by the fake-happiness I had created.
In that very room, I had hurt, bled and cried, but I myself, I had covered these wounds.
A coverup, just an illusion that was suppose to help me to survive, to not be crushed by the walls that had watched me hurt too many times. The walls that now were painted in my pain, constantly moving closer and closer to get me.
A lot of the illusion was created by all the posters I had covered the walls in, things printed on them that made me happy–bands, singers, movies.
One thing in particular though, did not remind me of all the bad that had happened there. One thing that made me genuinely happy and was a source of comfort when those bad things occurred. One thing that could've possibly been my escape hole if the walls would've ever gotten to me.
I remember the day Gerard and I had wanted to watch the stars so clearly. It's so vividly imprinted on my mind, that I can relive that moment at any time if I want to, like I was actually there again. Years ago.
It was shooting star season.
I had always associated shooting stars with God because of my mother. Until that very day, on which Gerard had created a new, better association. One that made more sense to me.
God was a concept to me, that I could never really understand. Never did the things that my mother said and tried to teach me make sense in my head. He just wasn't there. Not for me, not for my mother, not for Gerard and his family.
My mother would often say 'God is like a shooting star, he can actually be seen more clearly in the darkness.' But I could see nothing but pain when tears streamed down my mothers face as the words left her mouth nearly mechanically. Like an always repeating cycle of us hurting and her trying to lull us with words that never did anything for me. And maybe never helped her either.
So then there came Gerard, who somehow managed to even turn the most insignificant things in my life into a beaming memory.
He had suggested, we'd go watch the stars and I, of course, thought it was a great idea, as about nearly anything he'd suggest.
We decided that we wanted to sleep outside in my garden. Gerard had a tent he could bring over. We would watch the stars as our own personal bed time story.
I remember telling Gerard how we could hold hands because I had seen it in a movie and how he was someone I wanted to hold hands with and I remember him telling me how he liked that idea and how we could tell each other some secrets, too.
But, it never happened.
Not like it was suppose to at least.
As the day came that Gerard was suppose to spend the night, my mother decided she didn't want to allow me to sleep outside in a tent . She had read that it would be stormy night and besides, she said, I was too young.
Gerard was a older, but it never was anything that really mattered and something I was aware of except that day, because he was allowed to do so much more, even though it was just a small age difference. Or maybe it just was his mother's way of dealing with things differently, but I didn't consider that at the time.
I was so angry, about being who I was, being younger than Gerard and having a mother who wouldn't allow me to tent in our garden. I screamed and cried, created yet another bad memory in my bedroom, but my mother never changed her mind that day.
She had warned me that she'd call Gerard's mother to tell her that Gerard couldn't come over anymore, that I wasn't behaving very well, if I wouldn't stop with all my screaming. Well, I recovered quickly after. But I was still madly sad.
Gerard came later that day, my mom had let him into my room as I was curled up on my bed, silently and trying to suppress any tears.
"Frankie, no. Don't be sad." He said, after he had sat down on my bed.
I turned to look at him and he immediately engulfed me in a big hug.
I loved his hugs, they were warm and familiar and I loved how his scent would dance around my nostrils like a bunch of pretty sparkles.
"We can still look at the stars." He whispered softly and I shook my head.
Gerard ignored my gesture and started unpacking his bag he had brought with him.
"I stole the stars for you, Frankie. Just for you and you can't tell anyone, okay?"
I did not understand what he was talking about that moment, but I promised him anyway. I probably would've even promised my soul to him if he had asked for it.
A few year later I found out that he had quite literally stolen stars for me, and though it had been years ago and we both were older and more mature, Gerard had broken down crying. Apparently, he had always suppressed the fact that he had stolen something and so the guilt of it might've built up inside of him. Regardless of it being something very insignificant.
But I didn't know that that would happen back then, as Gerard showed me a package of glow in the dark star stickers.
We asked my mom to help us stick them onto the ceiling and then we made my room dark and laid down on the mattresses that we had laid down on the floor.
Gerard had taken my hand in his and intertwined our fingers,
I was happy.
I was happy to have him.
With me,
There.
That he had stolen the stars for me. Just for me.
"Do you like the stars I stole for you, Frankie?"
"Yes. Thank you so much, Gee."
"Well now we're under the stars and we're holding hands. You just have to tell me a secret now."
"You do, too."
"I did already. I stole the stars for you Frankie. Now it is your turn."
And that's the first time I said it.
I do not know if I knew back then what meaning it held and how important it would become.
But it felt right in my heart and my stomach.
"I love you."
A/N: sorry this took longer than I expected. Lots of school work to do atm, loads of exams :(
