On Saturday the 7th of November, I had a small panic attack when a man approached me at the till wanting to buy paracetamol.

It’s official. You broke me. Now in retrospect I saw this coming. Falling for someone who wants to leave this place means I should not be surprised if you try to take steps outside but… that doesn’t change the facts.
You broke me. Broke me like the photos frames of all the people I thought you were still living for. Broke me like the hinge on the door after  forcefully trying escape so many times.

You broke all of my security. The last person who put this many dents in my armor spend 5 years starving themselves on a hospital ward. And I can’t look at her anymore because I’m thinking about you.
Thinking about the scars on your thighs. The lines under your eyes. How hard it is to sit on your bed because it feels too much like sitting on a grave…
but how beautiful you are all the same. You broke me more efficiently than any other.
You will talk to me about anything, except the overdosing. So here is my conversation. Here is me asking what is wrong? Here is me asking how did your sister react. This me saying I would do anything to see you smile. So to knows you are still hurting, breaks me!

But **** this ****. I wanted to write something happy so here I go.

You know that one softer yellow tile up at the tram stop on fletcher gate. Man’s a ******* boss.
It's meant to help blind people see but between you and me, I think it’s meant to spread a little glee. It’s squishy… and that makes me happy.

Reminds me that in a world of callous skin and rough edges there are people who take pledges. People who vow that somehow, here and now is the time to make a difference. Send assistance to the hopeless so they can focus on their brilliance.

And that’s what I wanna do. I’m not here guilt you. Not here to shed light on the fact that depression is depressing for more souls than the just the one diagnosed. I’m here because I want to be. I wanna duck and weave between your plight and grief. Sit relief and self-belief on you back seat. I wanna remain upbeat when you sing songs of defeat. I want to be there despite you feeling weak. I wanna hide step ladders in your sheets so when you wake up in the morning you feel as though there is no goal you can’t reach.

I wanna teach you how to smile. Teach you that just like the one yellow tile, you can feel so down that may already appear like part of the ground but you can still be wonderful and brave. That more and more reasons to smile can be discovered or made.

I’m sorry it’s easier to say than to do. And keeping it together was easier for me than you. But this is how I pick up the pieces. This is what I want to teach you.