Depression Is My Kryptonite

More Questions, Of Course...

I liked talking to you today. Please don't disappear. Today was helpful, it was real. And trust me, you need to stay in tune with reality. I think that we can be friends, I think I can move on, if I so choose. But I guess I don't want to. Not yet. Not until I know that you're really okay and that this isn't just another game of charades. I still get curious.
Some of the questions that I didn't ask yet are as follows:

Why did you ask me out in the first place, if you weren't fully ready?
Why didn't you just ignore what I said?
Why'd you say "I love you" first?
What are you so afraid to talk about? (My mom thinks you're gay. I don't know what I think it is. But, like I said I'll fight my curiosity until you're ready to be fully honest about it. There are things I have hidden too, that I almost showed to you. Guess you dodged that too.)
Why do you read what I write?
Why were we never friends last year?
Why do you keep pleading to disappear?

I honestly care. I don't really know if you do too, I'm not sure about much that went on between us. But, I guess I'll just slowly ask you my questions. They'll never be fully answered, because I'll always be curious until the day that I disappear. You didn't say anything wrong today, by the way. If that's what you fear. Or maybe something else happened at home, I don't know. My mom and step dad started arguing again too, about me of course.