She was always alone.
She never sat with anyone at lunch or ever talked to anyone either.
She was the silent type of depressed person. You know, the type that nobody ever really cares about but you can notice the subtle changes.
Like the scars on her wrist.
Like how one day she'll be wearing short sleeves and then it automatically changes to long sleeves until the fresh cuts turn into old news.
She was the type of depressed girl who was empty. But always felt everything.
She was the type of depressed girl who had lost her sister before falling into depression.
She was the type of depressed girl who lost her sister to suicide.
She was the type of depressed girl who rarely ever raised her hand in class because her anxiety was telling her the answer she was thinking of was wrong.
She was the type of depressed girl who had a few friends but she kept them at a distance because she was too afraid of opening up.
She was the type of depressed girl who refused therapy even though her parents forced her to go. She'd just stay silent during sessions until the therapist gave up trying to talk to her.
She was the type of depressed girl who had a secret admirer. A depressed boy who ached to hold her and comfort her and get through depression together but never talked to her for the fear of rejection.
He was the type of depressed boy who had come from an abusive past and present.
He was the type of depressed boy who was suffering from PTSD but no matter what pills they tried failed.
He was the type of depressed boy who ended up at a mental hospital for overdosing.
He was the type of depressed boy who saw beauty in everything but himself.
****
They met at the hospital. They didn't talk to each other but they knew of each other. They were both too terrified to initiate a conversation with each other because they knew what rejection felt like.
They had both been through heartbreak and they both feel like if they experience it again, they would not be able to survive.
They were so different in so many ways, but in so many ways they were the same.
The therapists decided something.
They introduced the two people. In hope that they would talk.
And they did.
"Chris."
"Lilac."
That was all that was said the first day. They both had a distant look in their eyes that was full of nothing, but everything at the same time. They both had an attraction for each other. The female for the male with the blonde hair and blue brown eyes. The male for the femeale with the long black curly hair with the icy blue eyes.
The next morning came and the female decided to try some food.
She ate a biscuit. A whole biscuit.
He ate some pineapples. Both made progress.
"I'm 16."
"So am I."
"You're the same as me."
The female broke out in tears and nodded. They both silently cried that night.
She got a little more sleep that night. Instead of one hour she got two.
He had an easier time getting up that morning. Instead of laying in bed all day, he got up at 11.
They made progress.
Eventually, they started to sit next to each other at food time. They initiated little conversations with each other. They started to tell their doctor's more. They started to fall in love.
They would meet everyday. They started talking more and the distant look in their eyes were fading. They were getting so much better. They started having physical contact with each other when the male confessed his love. The female confessed hers too.
And that's how the story ends. Two depressed people finding happiness in each other.
