Ellos no se conocen entre si. No saben nada el uno del otro. Pero de alguna forma siempre se andan buscando. Y hay una sola cosa que tienen en común, todos tienen el corazón roto. Y todos estuvieron, están o estarán enamorados. Esa noche los chicos de los corazones rotos se enamoraron, y todo cambió.

Ellas. Cada una diferente. Intenta conocerlas. Complicadas. Bellas. Ellas.

Las palabras comenzaron a acumularse en mi garganta, impidiéndome respirar. Fue entonces cuando decidí escupir este par de versos torcidos.

I'm sorry if this story is bothering you. But if it is, it's clearly not meant for you. "What's depression like?" A friend once asked. I didn't know what to say. Because when people ask you things like "What's wrong" and "How are you?" and "Can I help you?" I never know what to say. I end up lying. I end up answering "nothing" and "Fine" and "No". Though what I really want to answer is "Everything" and "I'm not okay" and "Yes, please". What depression is like? Writing what it's like is easier than telling what it's like. Only a few will totally understand what it's like. And for those people I wrote this.