1. The café

I liked to come to the café when I felt depressed. I would sit at table 18 looking out at the river, accompanied by my notebook and pen. I usually ordered an espresso or something bitter to satisfy my feelings.

If the coffee doesn't make me feel better, I would walk down to the river and look out to the sea. The icy air and darkness of the dirty London streets somehow made me feel comfortable and homely.

If all that still makes me feel like dying, as a last resort, I would cut. It made all my feeling flush out of me, just like the blood was dripping into the sink and slowly beging to form a pool.

This happened on a weekly basis. I could never find a way out of this hellish hole of depression. Not until I met her.

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