Experience taught me that antidepressant medication keeps the world’s miseries at arm’s length. Like living in a bubble, or being strung out all the time.

Experience also taught me that emotional invincibility is a dangerous pursuit, the limit too easily pursued. In my lesser moments  I fell in love with women just to break their hearts. Their tears, spite, and venom had no effect. I betrayed friends, family; I did terrible things so the women I loved would vanish from my life. Just to see.

Alone and unfeeling, I swore off love and antidepressants. Without love and its complications, I wouldn’t need an escape. Without the sharp, poisonous women I crave, I would have no reason to protect myself from the consequences of my desires.

I met a woman, demure and caring, fragile. All bangs, yoga pants, and pumpkin spice lattes.

She stayed over. She stayed over a lot. I hid my pills away.

I woke one morning to find her in the bathroom, huddled over the sink. Her hair was disheveled, frightening. She turned toward me, exposing her demon within.

I backed away and hurriedly fetched my dusty vial of antidepressants. I was ready to fall in love again.