Standing outside of Jamia's figurative door, I wanted nothing more than to give her the bouquet that I held in my hands and run away with her. All I needed was for her to arrive at the Italian Rose, but it had been nearly an hour, and she was still nowhere to be found. I tried to tell myself that she had just gotten stuck in traffic, but as I stared at the clock and clutched the bouquet, that excuse seemed less and less likely.

The door suddenly opened, but I quickly saw that Jamia still wasn't here. Pete Wentz entered the restaurant, holding hands with his boyfriend Patrick. "Hey, Frank," Pete said as he noticed me sitting alone at a table for two. "What are you doing here?"

"Jamia was supposed to meet me here an hour ago," I said.

Pete paused for a few minutes and asked, "Are you sure she's coming, Frank?"

"I'm sure," I said. "She just sets her clocks early because she's always late."

Pete shrugged and said, "For your sake, I hope you're right, Frank. Come on, Patrick. Let's go get a table."

Patrick and Pete sat down at the table next to me, and I could tell just from the look in their eyes how in love with each other they were. I wanted a relationship like that, and for a long time, I thought that I had found it with Jamia. However, whenever I was with her, my mind always seemed to wander. There was someone else - the last good thing about this part of town - but he could never love me back...

The door opened again, interrupting my train of thought, and at first, I thought that it was her. The short, black hair looked familiar, but when I looked closer, I took a deep breath and saw that it was actually Gerard Way, My Chemical Romance lead singer, hair dye addict, and the most beautiful man I knew.

"Gerard," I said as he approached my table. "You dyed your hair again."

"Do you like it?" he asked with a smile.

"I love it," I said. "Do you happen to know where Jamia is? She was supposed to meet me here an hour ago."

"Actually, I'm here on Jamia's behalf," Gerard said. "She wanted me to come talk to you for her for some reason."

"Is she running late?" I asked.

"Not exactly," Gerard said. He sat down next to me, pulled out a piece of a paper, and said, "Frank, I know we've been dating for a long time..."

"We have?" I said.

"I'm reading a letter that Jamia wrote to you," Gerard explained. "That's just what she wanted me to say."

"I see," I said, gesturing towards the paper. "Please continue, Gerard. I'd like to know what Jamia has to say."

"You're a great guy, but things have changed for me," Gerard said, still reading off of the paper. "I think that we might be better off as friends."

"Why?" I asked. "I thought that we were better off as lovers and not the other way around."

"I don't know yet," Gerard said. "Just let me keep reading the letter." I let him continue, and Gerard read, "We've become so distant. I never get any time alone with you when you're always around that emo freak, Gerard...why thank you, Jamia! What a nice compliment."

"What about you...I mean, her!" I exclaimed. "You're always going out with her friends. It's your fault that we never see each other."

"Well, hanging around the house with three dozen puppies isn't exactly my idea of a romantic Saturday night," Gerard said. "I'd rather pray for the wicked on the weekend...what is with all the references in this letter?! Frank, I think your girlfriend might be clinically insane."

"Just keep reading the letter," I said.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Frank, because you're worse than nicotine," Gerard read. "We're not working out. This was more than just a casual affair for me, but because of you, I'm stressed out. You were the tear in my bulletproof heart, and we could have been the kids from yesterday, but you ruin everything. Go away, leave me alone, the only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips. Thanks for the memories, Frank, but if you love me, let me go."

I paused for a moment to take everything in. "I love you too, but I can't let you go," I said, my eyes filling with tears. "You're everything to me."

"Stop trying to guilt me out of this!" Gerard exclaimed. "I have poured my heart into this relationship, and I've gotten nothing in return."

All of a sudden, Gerard began to sob too. "Are you okay?" I asked him as I reached over to comfort him.

Gerard moved his chair next to mine and rested his head on my shoulder. "I'm not okay. I promise," he said. "I lost my marching band jacket, Mikey ate all of the leftover sushi, I can't swim, I can't dance, I don't know karate, my band's been having all kinds of problems..."

"Wait, she's not in a band," I said.

"I know," Gerard said. "I was talking about me."

"Come on, Gerard!" I exclaimed as I moved away from him. "Stick to the paper."

"Fine," Gerard said as he grabbed onto the paper again and started to read. "I just think that we need some time apart."

"If that's what you want..." I said.

"You're not even going to fight for me?!" Gerard exclaimed. "I have given you the best years of my life, Frank Iero, and this is all I have to show for it!"

"Sugar..." I began, but Gerard interrupted me.

"Don't you dare try to guilt me out of this again!" Gerard said as he tried to walk out of the restaurant. "We're over, and that's final."

"Can't I at least have one last kiss?" I asked.

Gerard stopped and turned around. All of a sudden, his lips crashed into mine, but I barely even registered what was happening before he broke the kiss and stormed out of the Italian Rose.

Yet again, I was still sitting alone at a table for two, wondering what the hell had just happened. Somehow, I was even more heartbroken than I was before I had arrived. Not only was I now single, but I had no idea what Gerard thought of all of this. How much of that had he truly meant, and how much of it was just acting? It was the collision of his kiss that made it so hard.

I ordered a plate of pasta and as I took a few bites, I agonized over whether or not I should text Gerard. Part of me wanted nothing more than to see his face again, but another part of me told me that I should pretend that none of this had ever happened. Gerard didn't love me - he was just doing Jamia a favor by breaking up with me. Then again, what if he really did care about me?

All of a sudden, my phone buzzed, and I saw that I had a text from Gerard. "What just happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," I responded, eager to talk to Gerard again.

"That was even weirder than that time I got attacked by a bird," Gerard texted.

"I remember that," I texted back. "I tried to help you, but the bird flew away before I could."

"Really?" Gerard texted. "I never knew that."

"It's true," I told him.

"I just can't figure out why Jamia would have me of all people break up with you for her," Gerard wrote.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "You're my best friend."

"I'm the only friend that makes you cry," Gerard said. "Besides, she must have known that I'm in love with you."

"You're in love with me?" I typed. Already, I was blushing as I stared at my phone, where I kept far too many pictures of my "best friend." My heart raced - how many times had I fantasized about Gerard telling me that he loved me?

"No, that was just autocorrect," Gerard replied. "I meant to say that she must have known that I care about you deeply in a platonic, absolutely unromantic, and definitely heterosexual way."

Clearly, we needed to talk this over in person. "Why don't you come back to the Italian Rose, Gerard?" I asked. "There's still a seat reserved for you, and I wouldn't mind having some company."

"I'm on my way," Gerard texted.

A few minutes later, the door opened once again, and I saw Gerard re-enter the restaurant. I waved to him, and he gave me a shy smile as he approached my table and sat down across from me. After the waitress took his order, I handed him the bouquet that I had bought for Jamia. "I thought that you should have this, since you had to put up with all of my girlfriend's...well, ex-girlfriend's shenanigans," I said.

"Frank, you don't get it, do you?" Gerard said as he took the bouquet. "I actually had fun pretending to be your girlfriend."

Gerard was the master of the mixed message, but I couldn't get enough of it. "Did you really?" I said.

"Of course," Gerard said. "The world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me, Frank."

That was when I knew that he was thinking of me like I was thinking of him. The two of us ate our dinner together, chatting and flirting the whole time, but we couldn't let it stop there. After dinner, we drove around town together, and he showed me all of the most romantic spots in town. He dropped me off at my house at midnight, giving me a long, slow kiss that I could truly enjoy. By the end of the night, I could proudly call Gerard Arthur Way my boyfriend.

Five magical years went by, and although I occasionally thought about the night when Gerard and I fell in love, I tried my best to focus on the future. We told our bandmates about our relationship not long after it started, and with Ray and Mikey's support, we enjoyed many concerts, recording sessions, and romantic evenings together. I proposed to him one August night, and of course, he accepted. We spent most of the next year planning our wedding, but it was all worth it when I saw Gerard with a tux matching mine and newly-dyed orange hair.

After the ceremony, while Gerard was attempting to eat his dinner while talking to Ray, I realized something. I tapped Gerard's shoulder, and he turned around to face me. "What is it, Frank?" my new husband asked.

"What if Jamia wanted us to get together?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" Gerard said.

"Remember that night five years ago?" I said. "She must have wanted us to get together. Why else would she have sent you with that ridiculous letter?"

"That makes no sense," Gerard said. "Why would your ex-girlfriend want you to fall for someone else?"

"There are plenty of fangirls who are attracted to us and ship Frerard at the same time," I noted.

"When you put it that way, then maybe it's a possibility," Gerard said. "It doesn't matter how we got together though, Frank. I still love you."

"I love you too, Gerard," I said as I glanced towards the table where Jamia was sitting, telling a story about her relationship with me to three of her friends. Pete and Patrick were at the same table, joking around. All of a sudden, Jamia whispered something and giggled, and I knew that I was right. Jamia must have been the reason why Gerard and I were together.

In the end, it didn't matter. Gerard and I were happily married, and that was what counted. If it was my ex-girlfriend that had made me realize that Gerard was the only hope for me, then so be it.