Good days come. They linger with their warmth and promises that seem so fair. Promises of sunlight and laughter and happiness. Promises of all the things that have been taken from you because you waited too long. You didn't get help, when your best friend sat in your room crying as you told her everything. You didn't get help, the first time you walked to the cabinet searching for something to end it all. And you didn't get help when help was offered. You lied your way out of therapy. Twice. And no one had a clue. You would think trained professionals would recognize the difference between happiness and medication. But they didn't. So you take the pills. You still take them. Every day. And you hope that the promises will be fulfilled. But deep down you know that it can all change in the space of a day.

Sometimes the days are okay. They're easy and painless. And then some days are like today. Where every turn you're faced with something that makes you want to not exist. Something that makes you want to never face another day. And you don't ever know if you'll actually see tomorrow.