---Patrick---

Hello.

Try harder. It looks like you're just dying to hell him about this-

Don't even think of sending it.

Patrick: hey... Uh... I need some help... Um...

Did I really just send that?

What are you thinking Patrick? You don't ask people about that kind of stuff! Especially not people you've only known for two weeks. What the fuck is wrong with you?

But I don't know what else to do!

Gerard: What is it?

Really? Are you really asking about this?

Patrick: You have to promise not to judge me because this is really embarrassing... So please please please don't tell anyone...

Gerard: Of course, you know I'd never do something like that.

It's now or never.

PATRICK MARTIN STUMPH DONT YOU DARE-

Patrick: Uhm... Well, you see I... Uh.. Had a uh... Wet dream.... Uh... And I don't know how to get.... Uhm... Stuff out of sheets, and it's really embarrassing... I'm so sorry.

Yes. I had a wet dream. It was embarrassing as hell. But I can't help it. It just happened, and he was... he didn't even have clothes on and... I woke up too late and... Oh god, this is embarrassing. I have nobody else to rely on, and Dad'll beat me if he finds out, and Kevin will probably just hurt me again... And... oh my god this is pathetic.

I twiddle my thumbs while I wait for him to reply. My mind traveling as I push away my sheets.

Then I twiddle my thumbs some more.

And he doesn't reply.

And I wait for longer and longer.

And he. Doesn't. Fucking. Reply.

One minute turns into two, two turns into three, three turns into five, five turns to ten. I'm panicking. Because I just lost my one and only friend. I'm gonna get another beating from Dad, and he'll probably throw out the sheets and the blankets and force me to sleep on the mattress cold for a few months. Or at least until he can buy a new set and then he'll probably give me another beating then. Kevin will... well... I don't want to talk about what he'd probably do. Megan would be more awkward around me and stop cleaning up my wounds.

He's gonna tell everyone at school. I might as well just kill myself now and get it over with.

What is wrong with you? I told you not to say it. Now, look what you've done. You just ruined everything with the only person who just cares about you. If you could even say, he cares about you. You know he was just acting, so he didn't look like a bad person and maybe get a girlfriend. You're gay. You're pathetic. You ruin everything. First, it was The Incident and now this? No wonder people give up on you so easily. Why don't you go slit your wrists, it would be easier than living the rest of your life as a failure.

It's true. It's all true. I'm pathetic. I really am pathetic. Maybe it would be better if I just died. Maybe I would be less of a disappointment to everyone. Nobody would care. Not Gerard, not Pete, not Brendon or Joe. Not Ryan or Frank. They'd all just brush it off and continue with their lives.

Bzzt

The phone slips out of my hands as I rush to see if the text is from Gerard. This is weird. This is really weird because it's him. He actually replied. Why? Why did he reply? How can I be that important to him?

It's just a text to say the friendship it over, dumbass.

Is it? Is it really? There's only one way to find out...

I unlock my phone, my hands shaking so much that I have to put the passcode in two different times before I can check my messages. Is he really ending the friendship? Is he going to tell everyone at school? Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Gerard: Soak the sheets in cold water for like an hour or so, and then loosen it, you can usually just pick at it (I know, gross but it's the easiest way) and put it through the wash as shown on the tag thingy. It should come right off if you do it right. I don't know if you have jeans too, but you do the same thing for those with the cold water, loosen it, and put it through the wash. Sorry, it took so long, Mama was awake, and she was making sure I was asleep.

I let out a sigh of relief falling back on my pillow. I quickly type out the next text without giving it too much thought.

Patrick: Thank you so so much.

He actually didn't mind. I can't believe he didn't mind. How does that even happen? How can he be so caring about someone so broken? How can he be nice to me at all? I'm pathetic. The only person I could go to for help was him of all people.

Gerard: No problem. So who was it?

Who was it? What does he mean?

Patrick: What do you mean?

Gerard: Who was in the dream? There has to be someone.

Ohhhhhhhh. Shit.

Patrick: It was nobody

Wow...

Gerard: Uh-huh, sure it wasn't.

My heart sinks. Who the hell am I supposed to say? Billie Joe Armstrong? Goddamn.

Sometimes I give myself the creeps, don't I? That's a little scary,

I am not telling him the truth. Maybe I could just replace it with someone in class. A girl so he doesn't think I'm gay. He would definitely leave me if I told him the truth.

Disgusting, fat pig.

Patrick: Hayley Williams

Hayley Williams. Hayley Williams of all people. Might as well say you have a crush on Melanie while you're at it. Honestly, couldn't you choose one of the less popular girls? You'd seen like less of a creep, you're making it sound like you think you're better than everyone else. Isn't Hayley out of your league? Oh, you wouldn't know, you're too caught up in Gerard and how much of a fat, pathetic loser to think about popularity.

Gerard: That's cool. I mean, I'm not really into girls, but yeah, she's cute.

I'm not really into girls. What's that supposed to mean? What. Does. That. Mean? Does that mean he's gay? Does that mean he's just not interested in people at all?

Being asexual is better than being gay. You're pathetic and disgusting.

Patrick: Oh, are you asexual?

No, no not at all. I just don't like girls- what kind of question is that?

Gerard: No, haha, I'm gay.

No.

Haha.

I'm gay.

Gerard Way is gay. What the fuck? And he never told me? I didn't think he would be gay. He seemed like the type of person that would be against it. Then again everyone seems like they're against gays except for my ex-friends. I thought he'd be completely against it and if I told him I liked a guy, he'd just kick me out of his life. Just like Dad would.

So I guess he supports homosexuals. Good to know.

Patrick: You're gay?

Gerard: Yeah. Do you have a problem?

Is he getting defensive? As I read over the text, I can't help but think, he's a much different person than I thought. But I think I like it. It's kind of fucking sexy.

I quickly reply, not meaning to make him mad...

Patrick: No, not at all! Sorry, I just wasn't expecting that.

Just because he's gay doesn't mean I'm going to admit my love to him right away. Just because a girl admits she's straight instead of lesbian doesn't mean you go straight for her, right? So I'm going to wait this one out. He probably doesn't like me in that way, anyways. I think he'd like Frank in that way, the more I think about it.

At least a lot more than you. Just because he supports gays doesn't mean you're any less pathetic, broken, fat, or lonely than normal. You're still a disappointment to everyone.

I'm so deep in my truthful thoughts that I don't even realize I have a text from Gerard until I finally decided to snap back into reality.

Gerard: Okay. I'm sorry I'm just... Kind of defensive about that kind of stuff.

I take a deep breath before I reply. I don't know why but I don't want to tell him I'm gay. I'm probably not gay, anyways. It's probably just a temporary feeling, I'll get over it, and maybe I'll think Hayley or Ashley are cute again.

Ashley. Ashley...

No.

Three years ago, the summer of my seventh-grade year (1 week after The Incident)...

"Patrick, Baby, are you okay?" She asks, her light aquamarine hair hanging over one shoulder, like the color of the noon sky mixed with shades of the sea and grass. Her eyes are like cocoa beans, ready for harvest. Her lips are the red of the embers of a bonfire, bright and crisp.

I'm just the ash after a bonfire flame. The sky after the sun sets, the sea after it's drained out, the grass after it's dead, the cocoa beans after they've been used. I'm what's left of the boy I used to be. I'm just the aftermath of a "minor accident." I'm broken. I'm useless. I can't take care of Ashley anymore. I'm too numb. I could barely even get out of bed this morning without realizing how useless my life is.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" I reply, my voice bland.

She looks to me with concern in her eyes, her lips are closer to a cherry red the more I search every detail of her like it'll be my last time that I can set my gaze on her. She's wearing a tight Metallica shirt and dark denim skinny jeans that fit her frame perfectly. She's hatless today, only get beautiful hair showing atop her head, and down to her feet, I can get a glimpse of aqua blue Converse shoes. My wild eyes dart back up to her lips.

The lipstick is beautiful, but they shouldn't be mine. I can't... I don't know what I can't do. I just feel so off. So afraid. So out of place. Maybe it was never true, that's just how it looked in the light. Maybe I just need to see the world at a different angle to understand my feelings. I just need to heal. That'll happen eventually, right?

"You've been acting... Off... Ever since you were gone for a week. What happened, Baby? Why won't you tell me? I want to help you..."

She reaches for my arms, but I pull away before she can grasp them. I look straight into her eyes, my gaze as hard as I can muster. She seems slightly intimidated, "P-Patrick?"

"Ashley, we're over," I say, trying desperately to get each word out clear, "I'm over us. I'm over this. I'm sorry, but I don't love you like I did yesterday."

She looks shocked. Doesn't she know it wasn't love? Isn't that obvious?

"Patrick... What do you mean?"

What do I mean? What do I mean? I'm sorry. I must not have made it clear enough, "Did I stutter, Ashley? I'm breaking up with you. I don't love you. I don't think I ever did. The parking lot was spur of the moment, okay? There was nothing there. There was no spark. There was nothing special about that. It was just a stupid kiss."

"Oh yeah? Go to hell! You're pathetic! After all those times you said you wouldn't leave me, all those times you said you loved me, all those times you invited me over, all those times you said you'd be there for me. Does that mean nothing to you? What happened? What the fuck happened to you? You're not the Patrick I used to know." Ashley growls, nowhere near tears like I thought she'd be.

"Baby, seasons change, but people don't. I'm the same as I was two weeks ago, I've just come to my senses, it's best you do the same." I spit, a glare in my eyes. I turn away from her, pissed, and stomp away.

"Patrick Martin Stumph. Don't you dare leave that door, you little fucker."

"Too late, better go find your crybaby Melanie. Go cry me an ocean, bitch." And with those fourteen words, I leave. I leave her broken and defeated. I'm numb. I don't care what she thinks as long as it's about me. I want that to leave a scar because she could never feel half the pain I'm in.

Nobody will ever feel this numb.

Gerard: Patrick, did you fall asleep again?

My breathing returns to normal, my heart slowing again, and sweat drying. I'm back in reality. Not reliving the past.

Patrick: I'm so, so sorry. Yeah, I started drifting off, I think I need some sleep.

I don't like talking after flashbacks. I don't like talking at all. I just want to sleep. What if I sleep and never wake up? I wouldn't have to go through all this shit. I want to just die.

But I don't...

What the hell. Of course, you do!

Gerard. That's why.

Even if he did date you, you know he deserves a better lover than a pig like you. He deserves a better friend than you. You just annoy him whenever you get a chance, don't you? You're so pathetic thinking Gerard could ever save you.

Maybe I am pathetic... He doesn't deserve me... Maybe I should just drop dead...

Gerard: Wait I want to ask you something.

Just let me go, please... I'm exhausted...

Patrick: Anything

Fuck you.

Not my fault.

Gerard: What's your sexuality? I don't want to sound creepy or anything so if you don't want to answer, then don't. I'm curious.

I don't even pay that much attention to what I'm replying because I feel like I'm about to collapse.

Patrick: I think I'm gay... I'm still figuring it out, though. But I'm into a few guys at school...

Gerard: That's cool, whatever floats your boat, you know? Goodnight, sleep well.

Patrick: You, too...

I shut my eyes, immediately flopping back into bed. Ashley's words echoing through my mind.

"Go to hell! You're pathetic!"

I shouldn't have pushed her away. I shouldn't have pushed any of them away. But I mess everything up. I killed my own mom. I pushed away my friends when I most needed them.

You never needed them.

Yes. I did. I fucking did need them. Do you see how broken I am now? Don't you see how much better I would have been if I'd only stayed with them?

Can I really fix all of these burnt bridges? Would any of them even want to repair those bridges? Or am I going to be alone with my only friend... Gerard...?

I want to fix it. I want to fix everything. I want my ex-friends back.

But I'm too pathetic for them. I shouldn't think that I'm better. I hear a fucking voice in my head for crying out loud! I'll never be beautiful like any of them. I'll always be the odd one out. I'll always be the fat one out of all the skinnies.

I'm just fucked up inside. The numbness is gone, the anger is gone, I just wish everything would be back to normal.

But it'll never be normal. It's your fault that The Incident happened. It's your fault that you only have Gerard. It's your fault you're misshapen. It's your fault Kevin molests you. It's your fault Dad beats you. It's your fault you're so pathetic and disgusting and lonely and broken. It's all your fault, and you can't fix it, no matter how hard you may try.

You're just a mess. An unsolvable mess.

Go burn in hell, cunt.