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"How are you settling in?"

"The jet lag refuses to wear off" I mumbled, yawning and stretching my arms over my head.

"Noa..." Cristian started. I knew what he was thinking. Whenever my depression gets bad, I tend to sleep a lot. More than any normal person should. "Have you been taking your pills?"

"Yes, Cristian" I let out an exasperated breath. Look at me lying. I missed two days. But he didn't need to know.

"Alright" He said. "Have you arranged your prescription over there?"

"Not yet, I'll do it today"

"Okay..." He paused for a second. "I have to go, mom's yelling about something"

"Alright, I love you" I said.

"Love you too, call or text if you need anything" He hung up. I laid in bed, wrapping myself up in the blankets. The day was gloomy, clouds floating their way through the sky. It seemed as if the sky knew how I felt; as if he was feeling it too. What is wrong with me? My first week in Madrid was fantastic. I made friends, I rested and for once it felt like things were coming together. And yet, here I am laying in bed at one in the afternoon, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. Perhaps my problems had followed me all the way to Madrid, perhaps I hadn't run far enough. The thing about depression is that it will strike, no matter how good your life is. I sighed, picking up my phone.

Emilio Torres

Are you up for dinner today?

Just u and me?

Yep

Okay :)

Where are we going?

I'll take care of that

Just dress nicely!

I guess that's my cue to get up. In all honesty, I wanted to say no. I wanted to say I was busy and go back to bed instead, but I was happy Emilio wanted to spend time with me, even though I wanted nothing more than to isolate myself from the world. You can't be who you want staying where you are Cristian's words rang through my head. Even from the other side of the world he's still right. I sat up, looking at the pills on my nightstand. I refused to let depression win today (She has already won plenty of times). I quickly swallowed them down, chugging a bottle of water.

"Finally! La dormilona appears!" Julia said as I stepped out of my room.

"Sorry, jet lag is still kicking my ass" I laughed, sitting next to her in the living room couch. A cup of coffee was nestled in her hands and she looked at me knowingly. She didn't believe a word I said. The worst part of depression is the guilt that follows it. The guilt of knowing you have a good life, that people care about you, and still not being able to feel happy.

"Preciosa, are you doing okay?" She asked softly, opening her arm for me to lay next to her. I did, I needed it. My eyes filled with tears. Why is it that when someone asks if you're okay the dam breaks? I tried to swallow the knot in my throat. Why can't I stop feeling like this? I had spent so many nights looking up at whatever higher power sits in the clouds, begging him to let me be okay. Pleading tear after tear to feel normal inside.

"Just one of those days" I mumbled, quickly drying my eyes with my sleeves. My head rested on her lap, her fingers running through my hair softly. "I wish I could be as strong as you are" I whispered, feeling the tears falling out of my eyes.

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