december rain

i've been watching your world from afar

i've been trying to be where you are

and i've been secretly falling apart

unseen

The place is empty.

We sit out on the patio, surrounded by the clatter of tables being cleared and the obnoxious honking of buses from the highway nearby. You stare at the flurry of activity on the street, watching mutely as the rain turned the world gray.

"It's raining," you say. "In December."

I nod, as if I understand what you mean.

Your eyes follow the slow crawl of the cars in traffic, then the people crossing the street, umbrellas upturned toward the rain. You are still watching when you ask, "Have you ever gotten that feeling, where you could just put a gun to your head and shoot yourself, and it wouldn't matter?"

You turn to me now, and flash me a pained smile. "Last night, I had that feeling. And in one terrifying moment, I realized I could do it. I could end my life now. I'm worthless. Nothing seems to matter anymore. Everything is disposable.

"I'm scared, because I always thought it would take one extremely depressed, psychotic person to think this way. I'm supposed to be normal. I work, I laugh, I function as any normal person would. How could I possibly think like this?"

You stare at me now, searching my eyes for an answer.

I look away.

sometimes, the last thing you want comes in first

sometimes, the first thing you want never comes

and I know that waiting is all you can do

sometimes

- Strange and Beautiful, Aqualung