.I feel useless.
You always do.
They say it just takes time.
You’ve had depression for as long as I’ve known you.
I did some research today. Maybe melatonin could help my inability to sleep.
You sleep with the lights on.
So I’ll start sleeping with them off.
You’ll start to think a riot of ghosts are taking over your soul.
I think I’m going to go outside today, get some sunlight for once.
And what, jump on the trampoline, thinking you’re an astronaut on the moon? Haley, we already discussed this. You can’t use your imagination to escape the present.
Then I’ll stay inside and find something productive to do, like sweep, I haven’t for weeks. This place looks like a mess.
And then you’ll tell me how the debris scattered on the floor are the crumbs of your heart. I don’t want to hear your metaphors anymore.
But you used to love it.
Flowers wither. Things change.
Things die, you mean. Someone once said, if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
Fucking stop it with these quotes already! Your contradictions only get messier. Can you just talk from your own words for once?
I don’t know how, you know that.
It’s been years, you think you could say something without referencing some poet you’re obsessed with for a change?
Can I paint it out for you?
Haley, I don’t have time to decipher your fucking abstract paintings!
You know when you’re merging onto a freeway of afternoon traffic? I always feel like I’m entering a war. A war with myself that never ends. That’s what depression feels like. An ongoing traffic jam.
It’s just fucking traffic. You keep magnifying reality as if it does you any good on your mentality. Just tell me something fucking straightforward for once so I don’t have to guess.
I love you.
And that’s why I have to leave you.