I want to hate you, depression, but I have no strength to do so. So instead I just let you in. I sleep, dream and wake up with you. I don’t like feeling you, but I do. Because it’s as if I deserve you. It’s as if we’re really close friends. Because you never forget me and I never forget you. We have some kind of bond that shut ups all my intentions of pushing you away. I wish I could hate you. But I don’t. That doesn’t mean I like you, it just means that I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting against you. I feel miserable. So I’ll stop trying to get you out of my life for now and just accept you. So hello, depression. You won once again. Just please don’t make me cut. Please. I beg you. Thank you for making me so weak that I can’t even kill myself. I want to live a decent life someday. Without you. But for that to happen, I need to hate you. And I will. Just not right now. Right now I’m going to sleep a deep sleep where you’ll give me more nightmares and confuse me. I’ll lay on my bed with this heartache and suffer. And cry. And suffer again. It will make me want to hate you even more. So that’s what I’ll do. I’ll do it until I hate you. Because I’ll either one day hate you, or let you kill me.