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Confessions of a sad teen
I just wish that I had more of a grasp on the subject - depression. Talking to him about it makes me feel so ignorant and close minded. I watch every word I say – fearing I will say too much and make a fool of myself. It’s not that I’m in love with him, but there is something about him that makes me want to spend the rest of my life with him, on a park bench, cigarette in hand.
That fact that he is upset upsets me. Obviously not to the extent of his own sadness, but all I can ever think about is how little he deserves this. Stupid white girls saying phrases like ‘everything happens for a reason’. Are you retarded? The things he has had to go through, the pain he has endured – there is no way that could be justified, or no reasoning beyond it. It’s just all a game. That’s what he says actually. He tells me all about this game of life – and how he is ‘nearing the game over screen’. I think it’s an ingenious analogy. He’s a f*ing genius. I just hate thinking of it like that. I want to jump into the game and save him but I can’t. I mean in one way I have sort of just jumped into his game – interrupted it a little. But there’s only so long an interruption can last and soon enough he’s back stuck into the game.
It makes me fume that they think by locking him up into a place for f*ing loonies that he will suddenly be free of this mental disorder. He’s not a loony – his just not in a perfect mental state. Another thing is how he's told me that when he’s with me he feels something ‘that’s not pain’. I think when he said that to me I cried more than I’ve ever cried in my life. But the f*ing thing is, for fs f*ing sake, by taking him away from me for a month I'm not going to be able to make him feel like that anymore. And that hurts both me and him.
We go on these long walks through Hampstead heath. The view is magnificent – and it’s so bloody nice to get a few gulps of fresh air and escape from my mad house. We just walk and talk. But it’s not just talking – we tell each other everything. The thoughts in our head that we’ve never been able to tell anyone else. We help each other – we are one another’s councillors.
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