This post is dedicated to one of the most disturbed persons i have ever met. Thank you for sharing your depression.
Usually a wounded body is healed with the help of an optimistic spirit but what happens when things are the other way around? Do wounded spirits have any chance of recovery? I think they don't but, there are moments, for the most fortunate of us, when a simple, close and strong touch of a stranger slows down the pain that's eating our soul and especially our mind. A rough grab of the hands and a sudden reaction of two naked chests touching, forcing me to let everything out without using any word. And then a moment of such depth embraces my body. I close my eyes and start listening to the heartbeats of the one who's measuring my naked, empty body; that's when a small glimpse of hope tries to convince my mind that I may be able to recover, it’s like a bandage.
Two hands crush my body again but I already know that pain only postpones anger, i tried it long time ago. This is neither sex or love. It is the touch of a stranger that i frequently hate for not being what i want or need. But the chemistry between two disturbed individuals goes way beyond love or hate. The feeling that somebody could actually get the way i become addictive gave me peace. And that's interesting for someone who loves my tendency for addictions, right? And that's because he's also addictive, but also addicted to his own depression. Have you ever wondered: if depression goes away, who are you?
And than, he crushes again my body but instead of pain i feel pleasure; guilty, possessive pleasure. After a long metamorphosis , I receive a kiss on the cheek which I actually hate thinking: that's all I deserve after unveiling myself in such a way? Stranger should bite my lips so hard giving the fake hope that I might come back to that moment. Only after that the door should open and I should step out to being the same old broken myself...
