História It's Just Medicine (Frerard , Ryden) - Chapter 3

"The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma."

-Judith Lewis Herman

Frank

I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling fan that was circulating the air in my room. The longer I stared at it, the more it looked like it wasn't moving, appearing still though it was rotating swiftly.

   I was only thinking about one thing. One person.

   Gerard.

   I spent my entire Saturday afternoon trying to think about someone else or something else but I just couldn't. I tried doing productive things around the house, but my mind always went back to Gerard.

   This was an issue--I had no idea what he looked like. I was not aware of his facial features or his personality. He was just a mysterious and unknown guy who roamed through my mind frequently, and it had been a week since I started thinking about him.

   I didn't know why I was stressing over thinking about some stranger that I had never even met. I didn't know why it was killing me to not know him.

   Okay! I know what you're thinking:

   "Is he gay? He is always thinking about this guy! Why would he even waste his time?"

   Well, first of all, I am not gay. I am bi. There is a humongous difference between the two sexualities. Second of all, yes, I was thinking about a guy. And why would I waste my time? Because I hadn't felt so curious of my life.

   Also, I'm just letting you know that I was not thinking of the guy in a sexual or loving way. I just wanted to be his friend. I just wanted to talk to him. I didn't know why he wasn't not well; I had no idea what was wrong with him. All I knew was that he doesn't want to see me--or anyone, for that matter.

   Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by loud footsteps coming my way. My heart started to pound and beat erratically. My breath quickened and I put the duvet over my entire body. I was hiding.

   Why was I so scared?

   After my mother died in my youth, my father took custody of me for a few years, and every time I was around him he would beat me senseless. I would always hide under the covers or under some sort of larger object.

   I felt protected under anything. I was scared when my father tried to molest me and kill me. Did I mention I was only twelve? It was something I was always scared of as a child.

   It was, and still is, my greatest fear.

   I heard my door slam open and I didn't dare get out from under the blankets. My body was shaking and I felt the tears starting to stream down my face. The footsteps were getting closer and closer to me.

   I was sweating until they pulled the blankets off of me. The face of my foster brother, Ray, was revealed. Thank the heavens it wasn't that man. . .

   I was two years Ray's senior. His mother had decided to take me in from the orphanage I was living in from ages thirteen to fourteen. That had been the loneliest year I'd ever experienced. I was in a room filled with children who appeared unloved or abandoned, and I felt just as they had, yet despite these commonalities, I was very lonely. I began the dreadful habit of self-harm, and even attempted suicide during that time, and still, nothing worked to soothe me. Even after I had been adopted by a loving and caring family, I still practiced those same reckless obsessions, unable to resist the immediate compulsion and ending each time with the same ultimate result.

   I had to admit, though, that I was happier then I had been, and I was finally comfortable calling Ray's mother my own, referring to her lovingly as 'mama'. She was Puerto Rican, so she was kind of strict, but she loved her children.

   "Hey, dude! Why are you sweating?" Ray asked with a concerned look on his face. He had his hair back in a curly bun and cocked his head to the left. I looked at my shirt and it was soaked with my own sweat. I wiped my moist forehead and closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. I was relieved.

   "N-Nothing, why?" I asked, and his lips turned up in a smile. He usually gave me this smile when I was guilty of something or whatever.

   "Frankie, it's okay if you were jacking off," he said simply. My face was surprised and my mouth made an 'o' shape. I slapped his shoulder rather hard, both of us laughing our asses off. I pinned him to the bed and started slapping him.

   "What the fuck?! You know I don't do that!" I shouted, continuing my relentless assault upon him. It was true, though. I'd never actually touch myself over a female or male on the picture or my thoughts. I only had sex once but I never jerked it.

   Finally, Ray put his hands up in surrender.

   "Okay, I give up! I believe you!" he said, still giggling. I got off of him. He sat up and straightened himself out, smoothing down rumples in his clothing.

   "But you still cannot deny that you jerked off once in your life. We're guys and that's what we do," he said, trying to sound innocent though his words certainly were anything but. People thought he was so cute and pure because his voice was so soft and light, but truthfully, he was this devil that's two times my size. Literally.

   "Okay, Ray, I get it that you do. . .that," I said awkwardly, "but I seriously don't. Why would I ever want to touch myself over a stranger I have never met? Plus, I was only sweating because of PTSD. Remember? I have weird fears,"

   "Yes, I do remember, but why you would stress over a stranger and want to be his friend already?" Ray tried to protest and I sighed deeply. I laid back down and found myself staring at the ceiling fan again, lost in my thoughts once more.

   But sadly, he was right. I had told him everything about the ongoing situation, and he was the only one who understood me. Not even my best friend, Mikey, was in support of my endeavors.

   "You know what, bro? I really just want to go there and tell him 'hi' or something. From the things I've been hearing from his brother, Mikey, it seems like he's just. . .unstable in a certain way. He made it seem like Gerard was insecure about something, or maybe himself. I want to help him and let him know that life does get better. That's all I ever want to do, and I don't know why it's so frustrating for me but I feel like I need to try harder," I said, blinking slowly and sighing. Ray nudged my shoulder a little with his elbow and gave me a half smile.

   "Hey, don't worry! One day you'll be able to talk to him when he's ready. And who knows? You guys might become friends and eventually start something beautiful," he said with a reassuring smile across his lips. I felt so much better now that he and I had spoken. He always knew how to make me smile.

   "Hey, boys! Dinners ready!" Mama yelled brightly from downstairs.

   "Food!" Ray jumped up and ran downstairs. A happy giggle escaped my lips as I smiled fully.

   Eventually, I'll get to know Gerard and start something beautiful.