“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”

• Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Wherever I go, you seem to follow

I can never get rid of you. It’s been months since I’ve been alone and the stress is killing me

Nothing will make you go away, you cling to me like a leech and are a more devout follower than my own shadow

Upping the dosage never works, or does it?

Maybe instead of two a day, I can try three, or four, or five.

How is the bottle empty already?

The lines between fantasy and reality blurring, my vision darkening,

yet you are still there, clear as day

You’re sitting on the edge of the hospital bed when I wake up

The doctor’s voice overlapping with my mothers concerned tone fades away

All I can see is you, smirking as you always do

Everyone else is gone by now, too wrapped up in their own thoughts and heartbreak to notice me

Except you.

You’re still here, no matter what.

Nothing deters you, huh?

In that case, let’s be friends.

The name’s Mary, but I’m assuming you already knew that.

Promise to never leave?

You’d be the only one to stay.

Okay, see you tomorrow, I can barely wait.