+Bad Catholics+ Frank Iero

+14+

My eyes crept open, a harsh and frigid air immediately coming over my skin. I could hardly see at first between the mixture of bright light and the crust that attempted to keep my lids glued together, but once I could, I didn't know where I was at first.

    It surely wasn't the scalloped paint of my ceiling above me- but an early morning sky. A light frost coated the grass under my body, sending shivers through my skin every few seconds. I had what felt like an irreversible headache that didn't cease for even a moment, and frankly it was bad enough that I considered succumbing to the cold in a strange place if it meant I didn't have to sit up.

    I took a deep breath and slowly forced myself up anyway, wincing on the way as my headache grew. The first thing I saw was the backs of houses in the distance, and power lines- and by then it didn't take long for everything to come back to me. I fell asleep in the field somehow, and I say "somehow" because I could hardly remember how it happened. Minor panic set in.

    I left the party, and ran here, I thought to myself, retracing my steps. And Frank and I- Oh! Frank!

    Startled by how I could even forget he was with me, I quickly looked down to my right and saw Frank snoozing away in the grass next to me. I sighed as I began to remember the night in more detail now, regret creeping on as quickly as my migraine did.

    "You've really done it now, Mae," I mumbled to myself.

    I then heard the horn of a train sound a few miles away and silently gasped, suddenly realizing where I took him at the end of the night. I dug my head in my hands, all of it flooding back at once.

    I got drunk and I took Frank to my spot at the tracks and went trestling. The last place that I should have taken him to, I took him to. I couldn't believe that even while intoxicated, I didn't have the sense to avoid that at all costs. The possible questions that could be prompted from doing so overwhelmed me- and to think I considered for a brief moment telling him more.

    "What am I going to do..." I mumbled to myself, my face still planted in my hands.

    I let out a big sigh and turned to look at Frank, his chest rising and falling with each breath being the only trace of movement. Our dialogue from the night before seemed mostly harmless, from what I could remember. I tried to think of any questions he may have asked, or answers I may have given that would cause me any strife. The more I thought about it, I remembered being a little surprised that Frank didn't ask more questions about where I took him, and how strange it probably was to him that I was familiar with any of it. I expected him to be surprised, but for all I knew his reaction could have been hindered from the alcohol.

    I silently watched him as I pondered whether I should just get up and walk home, or if I should at least have the decency to wake him up before running away from him yet again. The more I walked away from him, the guiltier I started to feel despite my need to disconnect.

    In the light, the bruise around his eye faded into what looked like a splotch of watercolor blending into his skin- it was one of those times that I looked at him and he seemed more human. I laid back down on the grass in a huff, the internal battle raging on. I had to get out of there and go home, but I didn't know how. If I woke up Frank, questions would surely follow. If I didn't wake him up- well, I wasn't sure. I supposed if I didn't, questions might follow anyway. Perhaps I was simply in too deep for walking away to be easy anymore. My chance came and went.

    I sat back up again and nervously slid his jacket off of my shoulders. Beth's words suddenly echoed through my head once again, but I ignored them. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't let him any closer.

    Anxiety bubbled up in my chest as I stood, looking at Frank once more. It was strange, the way that I felt. Almost like I would regret walking away in the same way I regretted letting Frank in on a private piece of my life. The effort I spent trying to tell myself that every single thing he said or did to me was with poor intention was just that- effort. It was becoming work, whereas not too long before, it was the first thought that came into my head without even trying.

    Up until then, he had done nothing to show me he wasn't trustworthy- but I couldn't accept that as fact.

    I took the jacket and laid it over Frank's chest as gently as I could, him still fast asleep.

    "I'm sorry," I said to him quietly, turning around and beginning the walk home before I could change my mind.

        Maybe Beth was right about what she said to me- but I still wasn't ready.