I can feel my depression eating away at me.

I can feel him consuming my existence.

I hate it.

I hate him.

I hate how I gave him an identity.

He’s real.

How could I have left this happen?

How did he become so profound?

Did I make him this way?

Did I invite him like all demons possess their inviters?

No one can see him.

My secret boyfriend.

I’m sure they know he exists, but they can’t see him.

They’re not here to tell me I should leave him, well actually they do tell me that.

I tell them it’s not that easy and he doesn’t just leave.

I'll just learn to live with him.

As miserable as I am, I need to learn how to live with my boyfriend.

His name is depression.

And he’s killing me.