People used to call me a sad loner. Scary-looking. A real downer. Lonely. But I didn’t mind at all because maybe I was one back then. Lonely. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to, didn’t have anyone to depend on, and almost all of the time it felt like it was me alone facing everyone else, and I couldn’t hide, and I couldn’t afford to hide, so I just stood on the sides, most of the times.

You could also see how rarely I smile, to anyone. Only the closest people to me would actually see me smile. I hated it, my smile, I thought it was ugly.

And back then, I never felt like I had anywhere I belonged to. It’s not like I didn’t try. I tried, a lot. I joined organisations, I joined events, I joined groups, that I hoped to at least give me a bit less solitude. I had friends, quite a few of them, but none really understood what I was struggling with, and I didn’t have the words nor courage to tell anyone what problems I faced. When I did try, they fired back.

So what’s the point of this piece of writing? No, I’m not trying to pin the blame on someone, not you. I just wanted to elaborate a bit what I was like, before I met you. The only reason I joined that thing that made us meet. The factors surrounding myself that made me understood parts of the things that you’re going through. I understood some, and I tried to understand more.

And I was happy, definitely, and no one can tell me otherwise.

It’s just that, without that person, I think I’m reverting back to my old self, the one that was sad all the time. That person who can’t handle his own depression. Whose anxiety keeps him up all night. Who tries to smile at everything around him, only to grow tired of everything.

So, if you have a chance, say hello. To the old me.


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