Goodbye, Ryan.

So its coming up to 1 o'clock am. I have been drinking and have a bit of a cold so my thoughts aren't exactly coherent, but I felt like I should write something.

Ryan Davis saved my life.

I know this sounds melodramatic, but I assure you if it was not for Ryan, I would not be sitting at my desk writing and deleting and re writing this awkward and inadequate thank you and ultimately I can't do it any justice.

Giant Bomb inspired me to do something with myself when I needed it three years ago.

Nothing comes without its pressures. This year was one of the hardest and last month when I was minutes and inches away from doing something that would have changed everything for those around me, I pressed a button and began listening to a familiar voice.

It wasn't complicated, it wasn't even from someone I had ever met yet, that voice made me feel something.

Depression is a demon of the most devious manner. Instead of pushing you to your worst or giving you tangible obstacles, depression sucks any morsel of emotion out of you. It leaves you a husk, an empty carapace, something which evidently was once something majestic and full of life into something that is shed of meaning only to be ground into sand by the harshness of time.

I wish I could remember what it was. Or how it was said I wish I could remember the context or even if there was anyone else talking, but for the life of me all I can remember is that Ryan said something and that I cracked a smile.

Not a Cheshire cat like stalker smile, but a meek and pathetic line that formed under my nostrils that made me feel good.

The depression is still ever present, however instead of the black hole emotion suck that it once was, it is now a hole in my pocket, every now and then some change falls through, but then I stop putting my fucking change in that pocket.

So thank you Ryan. You saved my life.