Whispers and the Roars

by K. Webster

Depression is a part of my life. Some days, it just swallows me whole. I lie in bed for hours and hours just like Momma used to do. Hiding from the outside world. Hiding from my reflection. Replaying the negative parts of my life over and over again on some torturous loop. It’s not something I simply get over. It consumes me.

Love and my moral compass duel in the dark night. Love is more fierce and unstoppable and fucking crazy. Love always wins. That moral compass never stood a chance.

“I love you at your best and I love you at your worst. I love every single part of you. I always have and always will. I even love the parts I hate about you. How fucking weird is that? And I’ll continue to love you in every capacity, no matter how strange that makes me. I’ll fill in the missing voids of your heart with parts of mine,”