Depression is a black hole, but one your eyes have adjusted to. When light shines down into the hole it's disorienting. You can't quite process the intensity of the sensation, and it's utterly painful to look directly towards that light. Instead, you look down, you look away, you hide. It's supremely difficult to readjust to something that has been absent for so long. So when I shy away from your love, it's because I spent so many years drowning in a deep self-loathing. When I shy away from your touch, it's because I didn't let anyone get close to me for so many years. If you say you love me and I don't believe you, it's because very few people stuck around for too long after the diagnosis. My readjustment is slow, the sensations of love and warmth a bit foreign. But I promise I won't always flinch when you touch me, or say you're lying when you tell me you love me. Just give me some time. Soon I'll be ready to leap outside of this black hole, and dive head first into your love.