"Are you the cure to my depression?"
A girl, usually sad, fragile and always scared about the outcomes of her life.
A boy, who seems very optimistic and positive but is broken from inside.
Somehow, they cross paths and something immediately clicks b...
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It felt magical for some reason. All of a sudden—okay, not all of a sudden, but somehow, in the span of a few months my life took an unexpected turn.
Wherein, since the start of the year, I felt ugly, sad, self-conscious and scared. I still did, though not as much as I did back then. Now, when the year was almost ending, so many things changed in my favor.
My parents didn't understand me, I didn't know if they still did, but I could notice they were trying. I was unwillingly studying something I didn't enjoy one bit, but now I was going to get admitted in a college of my choice, doing the things I loved. I was alone, but now I had a few people. I had a boyfriend like Jungkook. Life felt too good to be true.
The depressed phase of my life taught me a lot. Though it hasn't reduced permanently, along with my anxiety. I read somewhere, you never get rid of your anxiety, you just learn to carry it, and I couldn't agree more. I was still very conscious about myself, scared to continue with my life. I knew life came with a lot of ups and downs, and maybe I wasn't completely prepared to overcome it all by myself.
But those times had reasons. I didn't know what was I doing, and for whom. But now, I slowly understood. When Jungkook told me that "you never do something for others, you do it for yourself so afterwards, you feel bold enough to help those around you."
He told me I needed to be strong for myself. I told him he needed to be strong as well, for himself and for me. Because I couldn't bear to see the ones I loved go down, sinking below the sea of grief. I wanted us to sail, I wanted us to build a ship sturdy enough, so it could be reliable to cross every ocean, no matter how deep.
He told me he loved this poetic side of me. I had laughed and told him I used to write in tenth grade, but eventually gave up. It was just another teenage dream for me. A hobby.
Now I sat back on the couch, with my legs dangling and my back resting on the hard leathery surface. My father sat beside me, close enough so we could read the newspaper together. He called me a while ago and told me he was solving sudoku, and I liked solving puzzles ever since I was a kid. Though I gave it up, too, long ago.
I gave up on so many things...are there even any tasks left that I still enjoy doing?
"What do you think could be the next number here?" He asked, tapping the pen on a square. I leaned in and focused on the row of numbers. He fixed his glasses and waited for my response.
