The Late Text

*Phone chimes*

Depression: WYD?

Me: Nothing. Trying to sleep.

Depression: You’re lame for that.

Me: How am I lame?

Depression: Aren’t you sad?

Me: No.

Depression: SMH. Yes you are.

Me: No I am not! Stop saying that I am.

Depression: You’re sad AF. Just come clean.

Me: Bye.

Depression: You’re worthless.

Depression: No one wants you around.

Depression: Leave.

Me: Why are you doing this? Are you trying to make me cry?

*No reply*

*Phone chimes*

Depression: Are you sad yet? I’m trying to chill with you. What’s up?

Me. Leave me alone. I don’t want to deal with you.

Depression: What do you mean?

Me: I don’t like how you make me feel when we are together.

Depression: Don’t you like feeling like crap when I tell you people think so little of you?

Me: Wrong! I don’t like feeling like that.

Depression: But that’s what it is, though.

Depression: So… Can I come through?

Me: No. I don’t need you right now.

Depression: What?

Me: I don’t want to be with you Depression.

Depression: I am all you have.

Me: No you aren’t.

Depression: Since when?

Me: Since I started understanding that I am enough.

Depression: Whatever.

Depression: Stop lying to yourself and let me keep you company.

Me: I’m good Depression.

Depression: Excuse me?

Me: You’re excused. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get some rest.

*Blocks number*