You didn't know you were depressed until you realised how good life could get. You'd always believed that your life was always going to be tough, being the way you were. You didn't realise you were depressed until someone walked into your life and made it beautiful. Now you wonder how you ever lived without it. Without him.
The first thing you notice is his eyes. From then on every time he walks into a room the first thing you see is his eyes. You never see his perfect hair, skin, clothes. You notice the eyes that first drew you in and held you, a perfect grey to fill your world with colour.
He's better at showing his emotions that you - he laughs when he hears you sing, cries as he tells you his story. Later on that day you realise the strength it took him to be open with his emotions, not sheltered like you are. He's honest with himself, something you are not.
It's not long until he makes you believe in love; something you gave up on a long time ago. You remember it clearly. Your father telling you he couldn't love you any more now he knew what you were. Your mother sad idly by, then comforted you later. You wanted to scream at her to stop being so weak, then you realised that you were weak too.
However the feeling of love gets lost along its way. You convince yourself that he's just a friend. Platonic love. You get coffee with someone else and it already feels like a betrayal, but you carry on regardless. Your brief 'love' of the other boy doesn't last long, long enough to embarrass yourself, long enough to make you want to give up all over again.
Then yet again, without either of you knowing - he saves you. He sings about the loss of yet another key element in his life and when you look into his eyes you know. You never loved anyone like this, you doubt you even knew what love was before you met him. For the first time you don't see someone strong, you see someone just as broken as you; someone who's been let down by the world just as much as you have. You realise that you are two halves of something that could make the other whole. You see yourself needing him, it scares you.
You never wanted you to be a coward, so you kiss him and then sing with him. You light up the stage when you perform together. It doesn't matter that you loose. Nothing matters except him.
You tell your mother, she's happy. You tell your father and he looks away. You speak louder, yell, scream, laugh. For once I'm happy, why can't you be happy for me? Your words are met with a hit. You're still laughing because nothing can touch you, or what you have.
Not even a month later you are re-introduced to the harsh reality of being who you are, having somehow managed to forget it in a love induced haze. You watch him get coronated; you've never been prouder and you tell him that. He didn't loose tonight, he didn't run. He's the same boy that's always been stronger than you, in spite of everything that's ever happened to him. As you watch him sleep that night you know that you're young and that now is not the time for strong emotions. Yet you swear that he's the one.
When he talks of New York, you listen. You dream about a life there with him, and then it's important that you say it. So you do. You say the words that change it all. I love you.
You didn't know you were depressed until you realised how good life could get. Although it seems stupid to feel as if the first sixteen years of your life were a waste, deep down you do. Because nothing mattered until a chance encounter on a staircase.