Depression's bad. I see why Robin did it.
It's because they all forget the simplest aspect of life: that it is mostly bad.
Exhibit A: The girl. The one. The puzzle. She won't even look at me. She doesn't want to see me. She doesn't want to talk to me.
Exhibit B: The new interest. The fiery, silent queen. She's as shy as I am, and neither of us will break. I should have been brave, but I cannot bring myself to do so. And now I won't see her forever.
Exhibit C: Muddy clothes.
Exhibit D: A pimple the size of my foot beneath my eye.
Exhibit E: That lingering lonely feeling every night. That I don't have anyone.
Conclusion: I'm sad. Really sad, and it doesn't just fix itself. Is this my life? Will I ever be free again? Happy?
I don't think I remember what that really feels like.