I hate the way you make me feel, Depression – your weight is heavy and guilt-laden. It seems we always find our way back to each other, especially during this time of year.
I can see you out of the corner of my eye; I’ve seen you slinking around a few steps behind me for months now. You think you’re clever, but you’re not; I know your M.O. and have committed it to memory.
My pace has slowed these past few days and I’m well aware you are catching up with me – I’ve grown almost helpless to your magnetic pull. I refuse to take the magic pills the doctors push on me to keep you at bay; we both know that chemical joy is not the answer. I’m very well aware that you’ll still be around to hit me when you find your opportunity, and even harder than without the pills.
Don’t you think it’s quite amusing that I think by writing to you, you will somehow take pity and leave me alone? I know I do.
I feel like I’m your favorite target, with the bull’s eye blazoned on the back of my head.
I remember that time, it seems like so long ago, when we looked each other in the eyes and danced our waltz of tears together. Do you remember?
I changed my approach and caught you off guard; I embraced you fully and absorbed all I could, learning your every nuance. I assume that this is why you attack me from behind now; you’re a coward, Depression – we both know it.
I know you’re chasing me down and almost ready to make your move; I can feel the heat of your breath on my neck – my heart flutters just thinking about it. I think we both love the hunt – it’s exhilarating.
Somehow it turns me on to know I am being pursued with such a vengeance. We have an intimacy unlike any other, you must admit. We are committed to each other in such an unorthodox way after so many years.
The moment I stop I know you’re going to pounce and cover me like a big, heavy wool cloak; it’s inviting at first, then intense and burdensome with wear. It’s so seductive to feel those first shivers when you touch my heart and mind; it is soon replaced by the empty and hollow void you inject inside of me.
You always catch me off guard in those precious beginning moments of our coupling; then like a whirlwind, you pull me down to my knees and obscure me in your dark and foreboding embrace. My tears are my only comfort in those moments. I can feel myself drowning and I am helpless in your arms.
Depression, I cannot stop thinking about your seductive melancholy teasing. It’s been a while since I had you around me, on top of me and inside of me.
I am your favorite, aren’t I? We are a perfect match… but wait.
Alas, my sweet, dark, and dismal lover that I love to hate, I’m afraid that this time our lust for each other must not be consummated.
I trust in the fact that you will be lurking around every corner; you’re going to become like a stalking ex-lover, aren’t you, Depression? I am not afraid to turn around and look you right in the eyes again, so be warned. Alter your plans of misery, walk away, and leave me alone.
Depression, I know you’re disappointed, but I must resist temptation and overcome your flirtations; I’m not that girl anymore.
Believe me when I say that you have my permission to see other people – I’m confident you’ll find another just as fun as I am to seduce and make your own.
Just keep in mind, my oldest adversary, it’s not goodbye, it’s ‘see you later’. I know we’ll reunite someday; it’s inevitable.
So let me blow you one last kiss – I’ll see you in my nightmares.