And you’re sitting emotionlessly still
For who knows how long it’s been
You can’t move.
Because if you twist your body
if you lower your head
if you so much as flinch.
You’ll feel it.
Aching inside of you.
Inside the part of you that the doctors can’t even get to
The part of you that your favorite person couldn’t even reach with reassuring words and unconditional love.
You’ll feel it.
Some nights it’ll be aching so painfully that you’ll wish you could rip open a hole in your chest and finally just tear it out of you.
But you can’t.
So it continues to ache.
It continues to exist.
And you continue to sit still.
I sit next to you
I hold your hand until you can wander around without the aching bringing you to your knees.
I watch you drink until you can’t feel your limbs and you’re stumbling around the house,
Falling into doors and laughing about it.
I laugh with you.
I let you take advantage of my presence while saying words you don’t mean.
“I love you,”
“Who am I sitting next to?”
I feel that I’m watching a child crawl around blindly in a cave they happened to stumble into one day while on an innocent adventure.
You fell into this cave.
A cave that is long and black and absolutely terrifying.
I know that cave.
I walked through the passages and screamed down the tunnels until my voice was just a scratched up whisper.
I know exactly where you’re at.
And I can’t do anything about it.
I want so badly to follow you into the cave.
I want to search through every single passage, inside every single crevice until I find you hiding in a corner waiting for me.
I want to hold your cold clammy hands, pull you up onto unsteady feet, and lead you back out of that godforsaken cave.
I want to find you.
I want to save you.
But I can’t.
Because I’d get lost, myself.
And that frustration is absolutely ripping me apart.
It’s destroying everything I am
And everything good I have ever believed in.
Because I can’t save you.
So, I’m begging you.
Please don’t ask me to walk back in there.
Because I would in a fraction of a heartbeat.
You know that.
But so many horrible things could go wrong.
What if we never found our way out?
What if the aching hurt so bad that one of us laid down to rest and then never woke up again?
What if we never laid eyes on each other again?
So instead of running into the cave carelessly,
I will stand by the entrance
By the light.
And call your name
And tell you that I love you
And I’ll laugh when you drunkenly fall into doors while holding my hand
And I’ll watch your favorite movie with you twice in one day just so the aching is relieved for an hour or two.
During one particularly sunny day,
You will emerge from this cave
Caked in dirt and blood,
And I will run up,
Pull you into the most satisfying hug you will ever receive,
Smile like a fool
“It’s nice to see you again, old friend.”
Facebook – Becca Tremmel
Instagram – @littlelionbecca
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That text you wrote is just… I can’t quite explain how wonderful it is. I love how you wrote it, the definition you gave to depression, and everything about it. I’m really glad I read it.