Pizza Boy

6:30am:

My alarm goes off

‘I’m not up for work today’

I call and tell my boss

 

I roll over and go back to sleep

11am:

I hear my phone beep

It’s the psychologist’s office returning my call

‘This week we can’t get you an appointment at all’

9am Monday is the earliest timeslot

But when you’re depressed, four days seems a lot

 

11:30am:

Still lying in bed

Negative thoughts taking over

Like clouds in my head

 

12am midday:

I walk to the shower

Clutching my towel, crying,

Trying not to fall over

Although not visible, I’m hurting inside

Wondering whether this feeling will ever subside

 

1pm:

My friend sends a text

‘How are you going?’

I send her one next

She calls me, we talk,

I cry and she listens

I tell her, ‘I don’t see the point of existence’

 

2pm:

Haven’t eaten all day

Order two pizzas to be on their way

 

2:40pm:

The doorbell rings

I look for my wallet in my big mess of things

Go downstairs, open the door

Take the boxes of pizza and place them on the floor

 

As I give him the cash,

We both ask the question:

“How has your day been?’

With a caring expression

 

‘I asked first,’ he says with a smile

I tell him I’m sick, a little white lie

 

He tells me he hopes I have a good day,

And I think to myself as he walks away

Pizza boy brought me more than just a margherita

He gave me just what I needed along with my pizza