Unlike Lizzie, I had found a way to cope, and grieve, and protect myself without tearing strips out of others. Why be fucked-up Gerard when I could be Gibsie the fuckup? It couldn’t hurt when I was Gibsie, because Gibsie was my armor, and humor was my sword. I didn’t think too much about the words that came out of my mouth. I usually said whatever was on my mind at the time, and that formed the person I had become in the minds of my friends. I was naturally self-deprecating, never purposefully cruel, and my attitude made people laugh.
