For My Dearest Friend

Around November of 2019, I was suffering from a crippling depression that plagued every aspect of my life. I was lucky to have the people closest to me to help me. Out of all the miserable days and nights, there are a handful of times that I will never forget.

One day I decided that against all the odds, against my perpetual tiredness, against my desire to stay in bed forever, I would go out and socialize; before my depressive episode, I was regularly going to student activists' meetings. However, I stopped attending because I could never find it in me to leave my house. That one day, I used all the energy I had to shower, get dressed, and leave my house. It felt like an impossible task to complete; I was slow and frequently had to stop to reconsider my decision. However, I was successful! This was something that hadn't happened in weeks; I wanted to stay in the comfort of my misery.

Before leaving my house, I texted my friend to make sure he would be there. I was ready to go, so I took the train to where the meeting was being held. The train ride wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe I was starting to feel better.

As I walked to the building, my heart started to feel heavy. My mind was racing; everything that could go wrong started playing in my head. What if I wasn't welcomed here? What if no one wanted me to be there? I kept walking, but with each step, the invisible rope that pulled at my feet from behind got heavier. I finally made it to the security guard.

"Good evening," I said, trying to smile, "I'm here for a student meeting."

"ID?" The stoic guard said with no sign of expression on his face except for annoyance.

I took out my ID without saying a word. I could tell he didn't want me to make his life any more difficult than it needed to be, and I didn't have the energy for polite conversation. Once I had a visitor's tag, I made my way towards the room number I was given earlier.

It was challenging to focus during the meeting. All I could think of was how much I wanted to be in bed at that moment. My body and heart ached for the comfort of my bed. On the other hand, my mind was ashamed and frustrated at my inability to have a normal life; it wanted to go back to some sense of normal, but all I could do was fight tears and the urge to flee. However, I stayed for the entire meeting—a small victory, but a victory nevertheless.

After the meeting had ended, people lingered in the room. They talked, smiled, laughed. I was envious of the people who had seemingly normal lives while I couldn't. I hated myself for being the way I was. I hated myself for aching the way I did. I hated myself for just being.

"Hey! How are you?" Enrique approached me, disrupted my self-hatred stream of consciousness.

"Hi," I turned quickly towards him. Seeing provided a form of pain relief that I couldn't understand. I gave him a big hug. I wanted to collapse in his arms; I wanted to cry on his should; I wanted to completely fall apart because staying put together took an immense amount of energy that consumed me from within.

"You want to go for a walk?" He asked with sad eyes. He could see my pain.

I nodded in response, unable to speak aloud.

***

The absence of the Sun created all-consuming darkness that blanketed over the city. The rain joined me with cold tears. The droplets of rain made an already dark and cold night infinite in its misery.

The center of my forehead was resting on the table. My head was pulsing from sobbing minutes earlier. My chest felt heavy as if there was a weight crushing my lungs. I lifted my head and turned to my right. There he was. People walked around us in the coffee shop we chose as shelter; they were perhaps oblivious to a world of sadness being shared between us.

I could feel his hand rubbing against my back in circles. The friction of this small movement provided a warmth that made the world just a little bit lighter and brighter.

We sat side by side. No words were spoken between us. He knew I was exhausted and waited for me to be ready. My throat was in knots, and words seem to get stuck there whenever I tried to utter a measly "thank you."

"It's okay," He smiled sweetly at me. "I'm here for you whenever you're ready."

My eyes welled up with tears again. They seem to never end. I didn't understand what was going on with me half the time. However, somehow, he knew exactly what to do and say.

My dearest friend, Enrique, who held my hand while I walked through a world of utter darkness. I could have a million lives and still not have enough time to show the gratitude he deserves. My dearest friend, Enrique, who comforted me during my saddest day. My dearest friend who read to me in Spanish and made me smile even when I thought I could never smile again. My dearest friend, who is always happy when good things happen to me. My dearest friend who is always proud when I accomplish something.

Dear Enrique,

There are no words other than I love you.