Meant to be (a wilbur soot fan fic)

chapter 3- lonely hours

tw: depression.

Two days.

Two days had already gone by since the last time I saw Wilbur.

  I looked at the paper bag that I had left on my counter. It was still closed.

  Maybe it was time to finally open it and plant the seeds.

  I did so, and hoped for the best. I would wait for the flower to grow a bit and then move it to my garden.

  After that I would never touch it again as I was informed -thanks to the book- that toad lilies were poisonous.

  As I made a cup of tea, my phone rang. It was once again, my mom.

  She was the only person to ever call anyways.

  "Hey mom" I said, as I held the phone up to my ear using my shoulder.

"Hi honey, what's going on?" she asked.

  For a second, I wondered if it was a good idea to tell her about Wilbur or not, but it was my mom, of course I wanted to tell her.

"I met a boy" I chuckled.

  "Oh my God! Are you serious? Tell me about him!" she shouted excited. At this point I knew that she had already planned our wedding.

"Well, I've only seen him twice. His name is Wilbur and he works at a flower shop close to my house. We haven't really talked much yet, but he has a very contagious smile and I haven't stopped thinking about it" I explained.

  Silence followed for a few seconds.

  For a moment, I thought that the signal was bad and that the line had been cut, but I was wrong.

  "Aw! Honey he sounds amazing! You have to talk to him and introduce yourself!" she said.

I thought about it for a bit, as I stirred my tea.

  "Maybe I should"  I replied.

  I kind of didn't want to though.

I wanted things to happen naturally.

  Although I felt very connected with him, I knew deep down that if it was meant to be, it would happen on it's own.

  I kept talking with my mom, ignoring the thoughts of him.

  We talked for so long, that there was no longer tea in my cup.

  I realised that all I wanted was someone to drink tea with and talk for hours.

  I had never been in a position in my life where I would talk to someone for so long.

  It was something I wanted to experience.

My mom hung up the phone a little bit later, as she explained that it was time for her to make dinner for herself and my dad.

  I was jealous of their love.

They had been married for 24 years.

  They barely ever argued, and when they did, they made sure I wasn't in front of it.

  They said they did so to avoid causing me any distress or sadness.

  Although they raised me and took care of me greatly, something went wrong.

  I never got to find out what did, but whatever it was, caused me depression.

  I was diagnosed with it just two years ago.

  It could've been due to the pressure I put into myself to succeed.

  My parents always made sure I knew, that success wasn't a necessity.

  But my mind didn't seem to want to believe that, probably causing me my disorder.

  My therapist used to tell me that although it is thought to be not curable, it would get better.

  But it didn't.

  I didn't know why I felt this way.

It made me feel guilty.

I shouldn't be feeling this way.

  I had a nice cozy apartment that my parents paid for me.

I was studying in one of the top music universities in the country.

  I had great friends growing up.

Whatever hobby I ever wanted to try out, I did.

My parents loved me.

My friends, although far away and forgotten, always made sure I was smiling when we were out together.

  I was physically healthy.

  My appearance wasn't that bad either.

So why am I the one to be depressed?

  There are people with worse problems out there, that are dying.

  I shouldn't be the sad one here.

  I looked at the empty tea cup that I had left in my sink.

  "Your feelings are valid:)" was written on it with bright pink letters.

  My therapist gave it to me on our last session, as a goodbye gift.

  A tiny tear dropped from my left eye, and rolled down my cheek.

  I used the sleeves of my sweater to wipe it away.

  I just wanted to feel happy again.

Perhaps it was because I was lonely.

  I was so sick of feeling this way, and I wanted to put an end to it.

  I decided that the following day, I would go across the street and introduce myself to the old lady.

  She definetly must have been feeling alone herself, so this would be good for both of us.

I lied in my bed and set an alarm clock for 9am the next morning.

  I closed my eyes, and drifted to sleep.