Afterthoughts on a conversation in the subway
I guess I’m worried about him more and less at the same time. By the end of the day, he basically told me he is not depressed, but sometimes he feels depressed, and he said he hates complaining about it because it makes it seem fake. So I told him that’s not true at all and if he ever needs to talk to someone, that I’m there to listen. Then he said that talking to people doesn’t help. I think that made it more real than anything. When I’m upset, I’ll talk to someone about it and feel better. I guess I’ve never really been depressed, I’ve never been to the point where talking about something and getting it off my chest doesn’t make me feel better. So now not only am I worried about him, now there’s nothing I can do to help. If talking doesn’t help, what can I do? I can always listen, that’s the only thing I’m good for sometimes.
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