The Space-Time Continuum

1.

"If you never battled depression, you'd know it's not that much of a battle at all. When you can barely move your arms because you have absolutely no motivation to, when it gets so bad you begin to cry for no single reason other than it being the only thing you can do, when you realize that you've finally hit your lowest point, that's when you know you've really lost to the enemy—your own thoughts—and you understand that nothing is worth anything and everything means nothing.
"The worst part of depression is the uninvited-third-cousin-twice-removed 'Anxiety' that bursts in loudly and obnoxiously, intruding without a care. Then, he sits by the bar waiting, watching, listening and only barging in to the most important parts of the party. I am the party. The guests are my other cousins—loneliness, impatience, procrastination— and it only ends when the upbeat music, the drawn out party and the blunt truth all come crashing down. Most parties end slowly as people leave gradually. Not this party, nope. The neighbors grow curious asking, 'Oh, is it over so suddenly?' Yet the party still rages on upstairs. Anxiety flirts up a storm with Exhaustion and Loneliness walks in to find the careless pair entangled in each other. She screams, but no one can hear her over the dastardly loud music singing about one night stands and staying with the same love for the rest of your life. Loneliness in a fit of rage and frustration throws her drink, soda and something to help her forget, in Anxiety's face. That's it, it's over. Now, since Anxiety resides behind my eyes, you can really only tell the party's over when Loneliness' drink rolls down my cheek."
      "Wow.. I, I had no idea... I'm so sorry... I don't know what to say."
      "It's alright, no one ever does."
      "So... um, that'll be $13.89."
      "Oh, right, uh.." I dug around in my pocket for a 20 and pulled it out with a few lint balls. "Keep the change, pal."
      "Thanks, ma'am. You take care now."
      "You too." With that I closed the door and stood at the nearby window watching him. The delivery guy fiddled with his keys on his way back to the car, eventually getting in and turning the ignition. Yet, he didn't leave right away. He sat there with his hands on the steering wheel seemingly pondering my words.
      "Oh my god, where the frick is the pizza?"
      "Calm yourself, Alex. I just got it." I offered up the box.
      "Gasp! Did you get plain cheese?"
      "Did you just seriously say 'gasp' out loud?"
      "And the extra chili peppers?"
      "I paid for them so I'd hope so." He asked this every time.
      "You are a goddess, girl!" He took the box and pranced into the kitchen. "What'd he look like?"
      "Well, he was..." I looked back out the window trying to get a better look at him, but he was gone. He must have disregarded what I said, or at least gotten over it. "He was tall, blonde. Your type, but distant."
      "Well, he got a job and I'd get free pizza, y'know what I'm saying?" He stuck his tongue out and laughed like only Alex Jermaine could do.
      "I texted Jasmine so she should be down any second." I said, struggling to get up from the couch.
      "Why she so sassy all the time?" Alex asked with a mouth full of, hopefully, pizza.
      "I don't know, why are you?" Jasmine appeared in the doorway. She was a beautiful girl, built with a little more meat, and fiercely proud of it as she should be.
      "See? Told ya." Alex waved a piece of pizza at me. "The disrespect is real 'round here."
      "Oh, go eat a rainbow."
      "You know what, my sparkle does not need this right now. Good night, ladies!" With that, he took up his plate of one slice of pizza, now drenched in all seven packets of chili peppers, and returned to his room for his regular programming of either "How to Get Away With Murder" or "Alaskan Bush People".
     "So, Chris, did you give him the usual spill?" Jasmine asked.
     "What do you mean?" Equally confused and disinterested, I ate a slice straight from the box.
     She was hunting for extra hidden chili peppers, completely destroying my clean cupboards. "You know, the delivery guy. Did you tell him that same disturbing metaphor about your head being a party and that your cousins are all doing each other?"
      I sighed. "Well, he asked how I was doing. I was just being honest."
      "Most people just say, 'Good, thanks. You?' Even though neither of you really care." She found her peppers.
      "That's just it. No one cares about how you really feel unless you're paying them to listen." I blankly stared at the greasy stains on the box.
      "Alex and I care, chica." She grabbed her plate and kissed my forehead. I smiled faintly at her as she went back to her room.
      She means well, they all do. I can't really complain about not having anyone care about me, but I know that no one really gets what I'm saying when I try to explain my feelings. It's like at concerts. The lead singer always leans into the mic and asks 'how y'all feeling tonight?' and the whole crowd screams and applauds. Imagine asking a colleague how they were doing and they just start screaming in your face. Terrible, just terrible.
      "I bet you believe that, Jasmine. I bet you believe that." I sighed and continued to eat my pizza, no peppers, from the box.