“Then talk to me about it,” Samantha said. “Don’t try to kill yourself!” “But I’m so tired,” I said. “It’s like there’s less color in everything. The sky is darker. The world is dimmer. Things that used to be fun, like singing, just make me tired now. I’ve been trying so hard for so long now that I deserve to rest. It’s selfish for you to ask me to withstand it when I can barely get out of bed most days.” “But I’ll help you with it,” Samantha said. “We can do it together. I need you to at least try. Things will get better if you hold on.”
