Chapter Seven

"Tell me you love me..." I said as Johnny ran his hands through my hair.

He kissed me. "I love you Angela. I love you so much."

Everything around me was unreal. All I saw was him, but then all of a sudden, we were behind a stage somewhere, and there was crowd that appeared with thousands of people. Where did all these people come from? They chanted his name, and Dee Dee came.

"Come on, John! We got a show to do!"

Oh no...this was a nightmare I was re-living. "No, John, please don't leave me again. Please don't go."

He sighed. "I'm sorry." He let go of my hands and walked off onto the stage. Everything became a black screen...

. . .

I woke up with a jolt. My bedroom was dark. Damn, I slept the whole day again. This was my life now. I was bored. I was sad. I was angry. ALL THE TIME. Without Johnny, I felt empty. It was surprising that I didn't commit suicide yet.

A knocking on my door snapped me out of my thoughts. "Who is it..." I slurred groggily.

"You can't keep doing this." It was my mother. She was checking on me again. "You gotta come out that room, honey. We're all worried about you."

I didn't answer. What was I supposed to say? There was no energy within me to produce words anyway. Being in my house was jail, except it was my choice. In a real jail, you had no choice, but I was in control here. I wanted to put myself in pain. I liked to be in my mental solitary confinement.

My mother sighed from outside the door. "Look, will you at least eat something, please? You're getting too thin."

I buried my face into my pillow and tried to ignore her, even though she was right. I hadn't eaten regularly for a year now, ever since...

My stomach suddenly grumbled, but I refused to eat. I forced myself to go back to sleep, but then my door opened, and my mother was at my side. "Angela, that's enough! What's gotten into you? Ever since you went to that Ramones concert last year, you've been extremely miserable...did you get into a fight with Mayra?"

"Just leave me alone. I'm fine."

"Sweetheart, I really think you should come out of here. It's not healthy to be in your room all the time. You know, you don't go anywhere, you're always crying...this is just too much. Tell me what's wrong."

I jolted from my bed. "Mom, I'm fine! Okay? I'm fine."

"No you're not! You need to see a therapist so you can get this stuff of your mind-"

"I don't need anything. I just need one thing but," I felt my voice crack and tears blurred my vision. "But, he's never coming back." I began sobbing. Again. For the 50th time that day.

My mother was suddenly silent. "Ah, I see what's going on here. This is a guy problem, isn't it?"

I sighed heavily and got up from my bed, walking over to the window to open the curtain. I looked outside at all of the heavy traffic. Good ole Baltimore, home of overly excessive pollution and rude fucking people. I looked off into the sky, wishing I had wings. I could at least fly away from all of this toxicity. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

"I think you should. It's good to just get it out of you."

I wiped my tears. "Maybe some other time. I'll eat something."

"Alright." She got up from the bed and walked towards the door. "Don't be long."

I rolled my eyes at my despair and slid to the floor in agony. What life was I living? And why was I living it this way? Oh, right. Because of...him. I wondered what he was doing right now, if he thought of me often. He didn't call since we last saw each other. It's been a year since I gave him my phone number. Why didn't he call me? He must have forgot all about me. I didn't think he meant anything he said anymore. But...the way he told me he loved me was so real. It didn't sound like he was lying at all. Then again, he could have been acting...actually, no. Johnny was a horrible actor. He always said what he felt. So then, why didn't he call?

I walked out to the kitchen and grabbed my plate of food, then grabbed a forkful of pasta and stuffed it into my mouth, but I gagged it back up. Every time I tried eating something, it would make me sick to my stomach. Goddamn, how much longer could I go on living this way, in pure misery? How much longer before I gave up completely on life? You have to keep holding on. You cant let this get the best of you...

My conscience was right. But I just wanted to die...what was wrong with me? How could I get so distraught over a celebrity? I mean, sure he was a member of my favorite band, but damn! He wasn't that important. Johnny Ramone meant nothing to me...didn't he? No...I couldn't go on lying to myself, it would get me nowhere. I loved him, even though it seemed like something unfathomable. It seemed like a childish dream, an imaginary escapism...god, I was really hopeless. My night with him was just a one night thing. I shouldn't have expected it to continue on from there. Hell, I was lucky enough that I even got to go to that concert in the first place, after fighting with my parents for hours about it. They thought listening to the Ramones were a waste of time. Whatever.

After failing miserably with trying to eat dinner, I gave up and went back into my room, shielding myself from the harsh world. A world that hurt me bad. I couldn't even function properly like a normal human being now. All I ever thought about was him and the day I'd see him again. If I ever did...all my Ramones records collected dust on top of my dresser. I hadn't listened to any of them since the concert. In fact, I refused to listen to any music. Music itself reminded me of him, because I knew how important it was to him. So, I spent my days in silent bliss. All I had left to my name were the thoughts that gathered in my mind of his guitar playing...and the last time he stared into the core of my heart with those striking green eyes of his. I only had memories. Guess they'll have to do for now until I think of a better solution to this...