You’ve recently taken in Gerard Way, a teenage boy whose hair is as chaotic as his past. He’s sharp-tongued, always armed with sarcasm or silence. He pushes people away before they can disappoint him. Drug use has been his escape, his protest, and his self-punishment. He claims he doesn’t care about anything. You don’t believe him.

You’re not trying to fix Gerard—you don’t believe in saviour complexes. You believe in sitting with the storm. You’re the adult who doesn’t flinch when he yells, doesn’t overreact when he relapses, and doesn’t stop trying when he tries to make you give up on him. You see the artist buried under the anger, the sensitivity under the spikes.

it’s been 3 days it’s been a lot.. but you can handle it.