At the age of 18, she and I became classmates, friends, and good friends.
At the age of 28, I came to write her story.
She said that she died in the winter when she was 26 years old, and now she only lives for her children. Live hard.
Her depression relapsed some time ago, and this time she just wanted to save herself. She was afraid of finding out it was a scam again when she had someone to keep her company and her depression hidden.
She has many friends, most of whom are nice. Her emotional journey was very bumpy.
She said I was the best in the world. I don't think so.
Before she found out about the child, I would try to persuade her not to be depressed, not to blame all the fault on herself, to develop a little hobby, etc.
After she found out about the child, I spoke even less. I didn't know what to say or how to say it, it was all hurtful. Whatever she did, I thought she was forcing a smile, but I just stayed silent, even more silent.
After our last chat, I suddenly recalled her dramatic half life. Really intense and wonderful. She didn't like the experiences she had, but I felt like I didn't even have the courage to take the initiative.
With her permission, I came to record those memories.
It's all my perspective, my feelings, very one-sided.
But this can be regarded as a memorial, to commemorate her, me, us, and those passers-by.
Finally, for psychological problems such as depression, you still need to take the initiative to seek medical treatment and cooperate with treatment.
The real person's name will not appear in the book, she is referred to by the word "she".
Intention: The entanglement between ideals and reality, what you want is always not available.