Every time, I want to cry or freak out about something, there he is. Standing there in front of me smiling that silly smile of his. And I just want to break down and tell Ken everything horrible that's happened. Defiling my body with the last man I didn't want. Asking him if he thinks I'm pretty enough, or when I feel the urge to drink an entire bottle of Dom Pérignon. He's been my rock since 2009, and I love him the most out of everyone. He's consistent in letting me know how everything is going, and I feel the urge to just hug him, and tell him everything is going to be okay.
Once upon a time ago, there was a depressed guy who went to college, and felt that nothing in life made sense. And nothing was making sense for him. He would often wonder what was wrong with him, and why he felt the way he was feeling. Until one day when he was 26 he decided enough. He was going to turn his life around. And he did. He didn't think about his life as if it were a sad movie. And he flew, his name was Ken.