𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙾𝚏 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛

Is he just a moody teenager?

AHHHH CUTIESSS^^

I wouldn't say there are any nwh spoilers but proceed with caution because there is a minor one.

TW : talks about death, suicide, depression etc.

If you are uncomfortable with those topics or they are triggering please read with caution <3

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What is depression

What defines a teenager with depression.

Well, depression comes in many forms.

It can look happy, carefree and optimistic on the outside, it can look like a person with good grades, a person who looks like they are put together, even a person with a seemingly perfect life.

What people don't know is that Peter isn't suffering from moody teenager syndrome or is just a teenager with extreme angst and laziness issues. That he isn't just a happy person who bottles it all in to save people from being burdened.

On the inside, all there is is that eternal feeling of hopelessness, numbness and misery. That no matter what you do things will never get better. Granted, if you had told Peter Parker he would be in total despair, standing on a building peering over the city of new york contemplating death, he wouldn't even believe himself.

Peter Parker is just a happy kid, right? A happy kid who has everything he could possibly desire. A kid who is a superhero. A kid who has fulfilled all his hopes and dreams. A kid who has nothing wrong in his life. A kid that should be grateful.

Yet why could he only think of death at this very moment.

Well simple. He is fucking tired. He is fed up with all the endless responsibilities, the endless feeling of insecurity, the endless feeling of worthlessness. He was sick and tired of it all.

His demons were killing him from the inside out. Ripping every ounce of hope and happiness he once had, vanishing into an empty void of nothingness.

He tried to bring himself back up. He tried reaching out to friends, and frankly, they were concerned about him. They ranted on about how amazing, kind, smart, and how strong he was. They ranted about how he deserved everything good in the universe, how he deserved to stay. How much they would miss him if he was gone.

Still, they never understood.

He never wanted to be strong, he never wanted to battle his and try so desperately to win. He never wanted to grow up so fast. He never wanted to suffer.

That was never what he wanted. He wanted, needed to be understood.

He loved them all with his entire heart there was no denying that. He just couldn't fathom how they could only care about the effect of his loss on their life. How everyone would mourn his loss and his welcoming smile, how they would never get over it.

How everybody would miss him.

Why couldn't everyone miss him now, while he was still alive hanging on by a mere thread. He had always wondered why people gave an unnecessary  amount of flowers to the dead and not to the living. Did they not mourn and love the living as they did the dead? How could the dead receive the flowers, how could the dead see with their very eyes how much they are cared for, valued for, loved for and understood. Instead, he got no flowers, he got no messages, he got no statements of love or care. All he got was how people would miss him.

"Miss me now," he would always think. "Miss me now before it's too late."

And ultimately, it was always the same. The same routine. The same cycle of nothingness