Love Lessons | WinTeam [Complete]

"I don't think I'm getting better anytime soon."

Team's POV

"The truth is..."

My throat felt tight.

"I don't think I'm getting better anytime soon."

Win stared at me with hurt eyes.

"I don't think that this is just broken heart syndrome anymore. I think I recovered from that."

I wanted to cry, but tears weren't falling.

"I think... I think I have depression instead."

Broken Heart syndrome normally just makes you feel empty, but what I was going through was so much more than that. I had tried already two times to die. This wasn't just an illness that was going to pass by. 

Win looked at me with tears in his eyes and held my body as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"I don't care when you get better. We just have to make sure you get better. That's all I care about."

My face buried on his damp shoulder, I cried.

--

I left the school, Win right beside me. Hands tightly locked.

"We're going to go see if we can get you some anti-depressants."

I turned my head, puzzled.

"Don't you have to get a diagnosis before you do that?"

Win stopped walking for a second.

"Yeah. Yeah, we have to do that."

He slapped himself lightly, and I couldn't help but smile. He was so silly sometimes.

We arrived at the doctor's office and checked in. Normally we would make an appointment beforehand, but this was more of an urgent appointment, so we had to make one when we got there. 

"Team?"

We got up as we heard my name being called in for an appointment. We sat on the two chairs in the office-styled room. The doctor came in with a sheet of paper on a clipboard and placed it on the table.

"Alright. So, today you made an appointment for a depression test, right?"

"Yes. That's what we're here for."

Win answered.

"Then, Team, I am going to have you check off the boxes that apply to you."

He handed me the clipboard, and I saw that there was a checklist with two boxes to the side of each question. One box read, "Yes." The other read, "No."

"For now, I am going to leave the room so that you don't feel pressured."

The doctor stood up from his seat and left through the door.

The first question was already rough on my heart.

Have you felt, in the last months or so, that you are ugly, unworthy, or better off dead?