Some people love you deeply, yet the way they love is by trying to pull you out of it. I reach for your hand. If you want to stand, I will lift you with all the strength I have. But if what you need is not to be pulled, not to be fixed, not to be persuaded into feeling better, then I will sit with you where you fell, and remain there with you. The cruellest thing about depression is that it is not an event, not an argument, not simply a bad mood that can be reasoned away. So however gentle, however sincere, however determined someone may be, if they have never entered that black hole themselves, they will always end up standing at its edge, speaking into the dark. I am down here. I can hear you. We are alike, but we are not the same. The way we see the world, the way we move through it, are different.