When you yourself suffer with depression you think it's awful. You feel worthless and numb and absolutely any other possible emotion you could think of. Everything and nothing all at once. It cripples you and leaves you stranded in the middle of an open abyss with nothing but your thoughts and dreams of someday being happy but when someone you love is depressed it reveals a whole new level of just how demonic of a disease it is. When the person you care about more than anything and who has saved you yourself from the wraths of suicidal thoughts is calling you and asking you for help you see how truly horrible it can be. As her voice cracks and you can physically hear the pain behind every word it rips your heart out and tosses it off of a cliff and laughs as you watch her crumble before you and all you can do is pray that she can find an ounce of strength left in her body not to do this. Not to let the depression win again because she's always been the strong one, the one to take care of you, but now that the roles are reversed you realize there's nothing you can do and you feel again like your stranded only this time it's behind a clear sheet of glass and on the other side she's standing there surrounded by physical versions of all of the demons in her head, some of which you didn't even know could exist within someone that beautiful, and she's staring at you, eyes pleading and spilling with tears as the demons surround her every movement all you can do is watch. You watch and hope to anyone or anything that may exist with the power to save her to please just do something because as she's being dragged to the ground you think maybe if you tear into your own veins deeps enough and release your own demons that hers will be distracted by the mass amounts of blood and sorrows covering the floor in front of you and even if she only gets away for five minutes, gets to breathe and not scream into nothingness for five minutes, it's worth it because you love her so ******* much that you would risk anything, even liters of your own blood and rooms full of your own monsters living deep in your soul that it would be worth it. C.a.l