My skin feels like summer, Eli

He sat wearing a hoodie as dark and black as his hair in the somewhat chilly gray morning, looking on at me. We conversed, briefly, blue eyes to blue eyes on the level ground. He leaned in to kiss me, a lingering touch of the lips, and then he pulled away, wrapping his arm around mine.

We stood on a platform at a train station, embracing one another. I rested my head on his shoulder, but when I looked up I was growing taller. And taller. Soon I was towering above him. He looked on as if nothing was different. I thought to myself that he will eventually grow, too, and that I must only persevere for now, until he grew with me.

And then HE was here, scribbling on paper. The one I dislike so much. I sat down somewhat across from him, not touching but not face to face. We used the paper to communicate, which frustrated me and clouded my mind. It was hard to concentrate and to read. He told me of his adventures with other girls he picked up, using certain perks of his privileged life as endearing bait. He went into lewd details I didn't wish to hear. I wanted to be happy for him, but his arrogance annoyed me and I found it a difficult task to want to feel happy for someone so elitist.

I wished to tell him about Eli and my relationship with him, but he wouldn't let me have a word. Even though he only wrote his laughter on paper and his face never moved, I could hear him laughing at me and laughing at me and laughing at me. I wanted him to see what kind of man he wasn't, even though Eli was still so young.

All good things must come to a end. But I didn't deserve that from him.

A gentle caress to urge the flesh.

Depression weighs on the neck like a heavy pendant, which grows and grows until your face is perpendicular to the ground. And even though you're uncomfortable and hurting, you pretend it is not there.

A friend of mine is going through this. I have been there but it was normal "teenage" stuff. I hope he seeks the help he needs to be happier.