Thanks To You || Alex Gaskarth

Prologue

"Are you alright, Alex?" Jack asked, his tone hesitant. His tense, unsure emotions reflected in his voice.

I nodded slowly, pushing my sweaty hair from my forehead. "I'm... I'm fine," I stuttered, barely above a whisper. I tried to remind myself that it was just chemicals, that all I needed to do was breathe. It seemed easier said than done.

Another anxiety attack had hit me. It had been the third one in the past two days. The second one I'd had on stage, during this month-long tour. My anxiety attacks weren't only making me feel like a failure, but they were making me legitimately fail at the only thing I was good at. Shakily, I pushed myself up off my knees, trying to ignore the dizziness in my head.

"We can cancel the rest of the show," Jack suggested.

"I'm fine," I repeated, more determined. "Let's get out there."

"You honestly don't-"

"Just shut the fuck up, Jack," I snapped, harsher than I'd ever spoke to the skunk haired boy before. "I said I'm fine and that means I'm fucking fine."

"Okay," Jack mumbled, his eyes wide. The resemblance to a puppy with its tail between its legs made me sigh guiltily.

"I'm sorry, man. I just want to get back out there."

Jack nodded, trailing behind me as we returned to the stage. Zack and Rian gave me looks of concern, but I ignored them. My almost constant feelings of anxiety were bad enough without the unhinging treatment of my best friends. I could hear them talking about me quietly late at night when they thought I was asleep in my bunk. They were all worried, but what could I do about that? It wasn't as if I wanted to feel like this, always missing her and falling apart at least once a day. 

My therapist had bumped up my prescription for the anti-anxiety medication, Ativan, but it didn't make a difference. It was like she'd taken my sanity with her when she'd walked out the door. It had been 6 months and I should have been over her, her name nothing more than a memory along with all the other girls. However, she'd stuck out to me. I had thought we would get married, settle down and have kids, thoughts I never even imagined before her. I was a "live in the moment" type of guy, but she had made me want to plan and be the best guy I could for her. I didn't understand how she could have left, how she didn't even appreciate me. 

This path of thoughts was leading me towards another panic attack, an aching feeling beginning to take root in my chest and my lungs becoming shallow. I breathed, scuffing my white, turned grey, Vans against the black floor of the stage. Jack was joking around with the crowd, but I wasn't paying enough attention to distinguish what about. It was like I was floating, barely able to keep myself in the moment.

Once Jack had come to a pause in his dialogue with the audience, I gave the best grin I could muster. "Hey, you sexy fuckers. Sorry about almost dying." The crowd shrieked, a chorus of "I love you, Alex" filling the room. "Any of you feeling... weightless?"

The response was even louder this time as my band mates began playing their instruments, the chords of the song filling the venue. 

"Manage me, I'm a mess," I sang. "Turn a page, I'm a book half unread. I wanna be laughed at, laughed with, just because. I wanna feel weightless and that should be enough." 

I held a tight grip on the microphone stand, needing something to keep me from dropping to my knees. I didn't have the energy to stand up here any longer, but I didn't want to let down the fans. Sweat beaded at my forehead and that ever familiar churning began in my stomach. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept, and I mean really slept. The kind of sleep where you actually wake up feeling rested and maybe even happy. Now, it was always two hours of sleep before a dream, or nightmare rather, involving her crept into my mind, sending me rushing for awareness.

I hated her for destroying me like this. She'd broken me so wholly and completely when all I'd ever wanted to do was love her. I hated that she'd left me without so much as an explanation. I hated how beautiful she looked when she had her bags at the door, telling me that she just couldn't do this anymore. I hated her. But, my hate for everything she'd done to me could never outweigh the amount of love I had for her. More than I hated the things that she'd done, I hated myself for not being able to let her go. 

It was like I was on autopilot, I realized, as I pulled away from my thoughts and heard myself singing, "And this is my reaction to everything I fear, cause I've been going crazy. I don't want to waste another minute here."

I held the microphone out to the crowd, letting them sing the next verse as I tried to calm my breathing. My thoughts of her were causing this, but I couldn't force my mind to stay away from them. She was all I thought about, the first thing when I woke up and the last thing before I fell asleep. Everything was moving too fast and I couldn't quite get my brain to keep up. I felt detached, not totally part of the present moment. I felt like I was going to puke, the churning in my stomach turning into violent wringing. I wanted to go to sleep. I wanted to be able to breathe. More than anything, I wanted her to come back.

My breathing was too fast. Despite the fact that I probably should have gone back to singing the song myself, I couldn't find it in my lungs to grasp enough air to speak or my vocal chords to provide the strength to sing. I was starting to hyperventilate. The venue was too hot and crowded. I felt trapped and suffocated.

Completely free of my own volition, the microphone fell out of my grasp as I sunk to my knees. Everything was too fast and I just couldn't fucking breathe. I felt tears build in my eyes as I thought of her. Why'd she have to fucking leave? She should have stayed for me, for us. We were perfect. I didn't understand why she'd broken my heart and left me like this. I couldn't quite grasp why I still loved her after all this. Why couldn't I just let her go? And as the memories rolled through my mind, breathing growing harder and bile threatening to rise up my esophagus, I lost myself. A hand settled on my shoulder and I could hear someone talking in my ear, yelling, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. The lights beaming on the stage burned my eyes and I could hear the sound of someone's shoes running across the stage. Soon, there was another pair of arms. The crowd was silent.

Then, everything faded to black.

God damn it, I started another story. So... what do you think?