This here is *REALY IMPORTANT* I wrote this as best as I could. I tried to word it as best as I could. And I want to make a point by writing it. Depression is a dangerous topic. It's never the same, experiences are different... But everybody that have it is sick. Its a sickness. A serious one. And it's not to be taken lightly. Our dear couple has lost their names. I want to voice with that, that IT DOESN'T MATTER WHO YOU ARE It doesn't depends on who you are and what you did, to get depressions. And it's okay. It isn't good, no. But it is okay.

Everything is cold. So cold. Why is it cold? He's outside. It's a warm, sunny day. All the other people are wearing shorts and T-shirt, skirts, dresses, tops.. Not one has a jacked... Why is it so cold. He himself wears only shorts and a T-shirt.

But everything is freezing. Everywhere he looks, the world is growing cold. He sees the others laughing... But he can't hear them. He sees how mouths are moving, forming words that are about to be said... But he can't hear a thing.

He knows the air is full of sounds. Wind is blowing, shaking some leaves out of the nearby tree. Birds are singing and enjoying the day, children are laughing and running through the Park. The parents are talking to each other... But nothing. The world around him is soundless.

He sees all those things, all the colours, the blue sky, without a single cloud, the living green from the trees and the grass, some flowers, the other people, animals, everything. But everything turns grey. As if someone drains the colour out of all those things, out of the world.

He looks down. In his lap lays a small map, filled with unfinished work. All these tasks are looking up to him, mocking him. He knows the answer of every question. He could be done in a matter of what, 10, 15 Minutes? Yes. Yes he could. He would be done with his homework and could do something different. Something he actually wants. But he can't. He can't write the answers. He knows them... But his body doesn't work like it should. It feels like he has no energy at all. He read the question again, knows exactly that one is asking. He knows exactly the answer. But he can't understand the question. It makes no sense in his mind. He reads it again and again.. But he simply does not understand it. Not at all.

He sighs silently, tired. It's all so cold. He tries to move, sitting straight again, maybe stretch a bit and then start again. Finishing those sides, like he should have done like over 3 days ago. Before the cold got him.

It was suddenly there, while he was talking with his brother. It wrapped itself around him, holding him tight. It erased every emotion he felt. His smile disappears, morphed itself in am almost lifeless expression. The corner of his lips tugging it a bit more downwards. His jaw slacked a little. Eyes halfway closed, the world behind his lids already becomes blurry. Not that it would matter. It's all cold and grey. Lifeless itself, with and without him.

He breaths in, so deep his rips begun to hurt while he hold his breath. He breathes out. Slowly. Letting every tiny bit of air out, to the point where he starts to feel dizzy. He inhales again, starting to breath normally.

He's fine. Everything is okay. He needs help. Nothing is, like it should be.

Both is true, but also so horribly wrong.

(I should finish this. But I can't. Why? Why... I don't even know.) he looked at his pen. His stupid pen that won't write. Won't move at all. The pen is perfectly fine, it can write, but you have to move it across the paper to do so. So why isn't he writing with his pen. Because he has not the strength. Can't move it.

He loosened his grip. The pen falls out of his hand, down in the paper. He took them and placed them next to him. (I'll try it later again. Maybe next time..)

"Are you done? Great! Come on, now you can play soccer with us!" his brother shouted, while waving

And he wants to. He wants it so badly. He wants to stand up, go to them, join them in their game. It would be so easy. But again, he simply can't. Can't move. His reaction is without his permission. He wants to have fun. But he says "Sorry. I'm taking just a break. I can't join you. I'll have to finish this." a apologetic smile appears on his lips, while he shakes his head and grabs his papers again, pretending to work again, pretending to do something. Again.

He is trapped, caged, tied down in his own body. Suffocating. He wants to do something. Anything. Please! But he can't. His body won't. His mind won't.

He knows what is going on, that this is wrong. He knows it isn't healthy to only eat once, to sleep for 3 hours at most, to have those thoughts, to don't do something against it. To don't feel, to feel empty, alone. Even with his brothers around him. He's so alone. Not lonely, just alone.

He knows it. Knows it too well. Knows he can't do anything against it. But he wants to. He wants to eat, sleep, work, cuddle his brothers, enjoy something, laugh, love, feel... He don't want to lay in bed for days, only leaving it for a visit in the bathroom, not enough energy to shower or just brush his teeth. Nothing.

It's a miracle he's even outside. After days. He don't know why or even how. It just happens.

(I want to live. I want to live. I don't want to die. I don't want to lose everything. Help. I need help. Why does nobody sees it. I don't want them to see it. I have depression. But why. Why do I have them. So much people are living in a bad live. Don't have enough money, food, clothes... I was happy, lucky even. I have a supportive family, food, friends, a boyfriend, clothes, can go to school, have a home, have good grades, are smart, can do whatever I want... Why am I so ungrateful. Why do I have depression. That's not fair. I'm practically laughing in the face of everybody else with depression...) He thought.

His phone vibrates. A new Message. From him. His boyfriend. He looks at his phone for about two minutes before he managed to select the message and read it.

*Hey, where are you? I miss you, can I get some cuddles?*

(Oh. I miss you too... You wants to see me. Why would you want that?) he wants to embrace him, hold him close, cuddle with him. He needs his touch. His kisses. He needs him. But in the same moment he wants to break up. Shove him away, let him go. Don't want affection, hates just the tough of it. So he starts typing.

*Hey, I was at the park. Gonna head home now. I have to finish some work. I'm sorry, but I don't have time at the moment. Like the last days, I know. Please don't be mad. I'll have some more time for you soon! Promise!*

He stops typing, his thumb hovering over "Send"

(I almost forgot it..) he gave a snort

*I love you*

(That's better. Way better. But... Is it the truth? It feels like a lie. I don't want to lie. I love him. I absolutely do... But it doesn't feels right to say it. I can't say it. If I would love him I would spend time with him, touch him, think of him, say him I would love him, have sex with him... We didn't had sex for almost 2 months now... I'm ignoring him for 2 months now... I only visit him enough to show the tiniest bit of interest... I'm a horrible boyfriend. He deserves better than that. I should spoil him.. I could. So why not. Why did I not do it... I'm so sorry) he wants to cry. But no tears are coming. So his inside stops screaming. It curls up in a ball and starts so cry instead.

(I should response) he thought, deleting the little love message. (why am I like this.) he almost presses the Button... But suddenly...

"There you are" hurried footsteps can be heard bevor something kneels down next to him. Someone kneels down. A certain someone.

He looks up from his phone, up to his smiling boyfriend "Huh?" he managed to say.

"I texted you. I was at your home, but you weren't there. The neighbor said you and your brother went to the park.. So here I am!"

both looked at each other for a moment, both starting to smile a little bit before hugging under starting to cuddle.

"I love you. Thank you"

"I know. I love you too"

Everything is still cold and grey. Nothing changes in that moment. No colours, no sounds, no feelings. But maybe just a tiny bit of warmth in his heart. But maybe it will change. With time and work. Someday.

Someday, Marco will be better

Someday, Ace will be better.

No one knows.

You can't see depression. You feel them.

So, who got them?

You'll have to find out.

...

At first, I really hope I didn't hurt someone by writing this. I'm a bit anxious about accidentally trigger something or anything else. I don't want to hurt someone! I just wanted to word my own feeling and experiences... Because a friend of mine told me, it helped this person to read something where this feeling is written down, because this person can't write it down themself... If I should add more warnings or something like that, please tell me so. I'll do my best by changing it then.

Please feel free to point out mistakes I made in wording, logic, spelling, everything.

I really love some feedback, ideas, sugesstions, jokes, addictions, whatever you want to share as a comment or something else. Please enjoy it and if you feel like it, give me some feedback.

Thank you for reading it!