No More Sad Songs- Conor Maynard Imagine
Word Count: 1,017
Warning(s)/Triggers: Talks about depression, behaviors of depression, &mentions anxiety (also note- not everyone who lives with this is or acts the same)
Author’s Note: This story is inspired by that interview Conor gave where he talked about him living with depression and anxiety. As well as some of my own experiences. I’ve dealt with anxiety my whole life with bouts of depression. I got emotional many times writing this, but it’s one of my favorites that I’ve written. Please be kind xx
Everyone handles things differently. Whether it’s good or bad.
Typically someone handles the bad things one of two ways:
1.They process it, deal with their emotions, and propel themselves forward
2. They try to process it, try to find/deal with their emotions, but they don’t move forward. They freeze and are unable to move.
People will say,
You’ll be ok
This will pass
But that’s not what they need. They need to feel support, to feel loved, to know that they’re not alone. Even if they can’t voice it.
It was a Friday. You didn’t know what time it was, the blinds had been closed since the night before. All you knew was you hadn’t worked on my music in over a week.
You were laid up in your boyfriend Conor’s room. You’d been in bed sleeping on and off all day. You didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to do anything.
In the distance, you heard a knock at the door.
“Babe? Babe, are you up?” It was Conor coming to check on you again. You didn’t respond.
“Can I come in please?” He asked again.
“Uh yeah.” you said faintly, still lying there.
He opened the door holding a tray. “Hey (Y/N) I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I made you some food.” setting the tray down on the nightstand next to you. He kneeled down on floor at your bedside, sweeping your hair back.
You felt him run his hand through your hair, but you still didn’t move. You just laid there.
He stopped playing with your hair and moved back from the bedside. As he stood up, he bent down to kiss your forehead and headed out the door.
Conor is an amazing boyfriend. Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve him. Especially on days like this.
You appreciated everything he was doing. You loved him for that, but you just couldn’t shake this heavy feeling. So you lied there, trying to make it go away.
I left my room.
I was worried about (Y/N). She hadn’t moved all day. She wasn’t eating very much and she had been sleeping a lot.
I knew exactly what was going on. I’ve seen this all before. Which gave me an idea, hopefully it would work or at least help.
I ran back up the stairs and opened the door to my room. (Y/N) was still lying there. Same position she was in before. I sat on the other side of the bed and put my hand on top of hers.
“Come on love! Let’s sit up for a minute. I’ll hold you.”
She finally made some movement, sliding her body over to me. I wrapped my arms around her and she rested her head on my shoulder.
“I don’t know if I’ve told you before, but I know how you’re feeling. You feel tired and stuck. You don’t know what to do or how to feel. And that’s ok. There’s nothing wrong with that.” I saw her cover her eyes and heard her start to cry.
“Shh… hey it’s ok I’m here. I’m right here.” I say trying to console her.
You’re being ridiculous. Stop crying.
“I’m sorry.” you sobbed
You hated having Conor see you like this, but he also made you feel safe. Nothing could hurt you as long as you were in his arms.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You have every right to feel this way.” he said placing a soft kiss to your head.
You sat up slightly, “What did you mean when you said, you know how I feel?”
Conor looked at you, then down at his hands. “I know what it feels like to be anxious and depressed. There were a couple times it was bad. My break up with Victoria for example. It was horrible. Like a dark cloud that came with no warning.”
You couldn’t believe it. You and Conor had been dating almost a year, he’d never opened up about this.
“The way I cope is through music. At first I didn’t want to write, record, or anything. I’d just stare at my piano. It hurt too much to write or to play. But how could I live without music? Someone once told me, we need sad songs in order to appreciate the happy ones. And happy ones to appreciate the sad ones. After that I realized I wasn’t going to let what I have, take away the one thing I love.” he explained, running his fingers through his hair.
You sighed, “I feel the dark cloud. I feel like it’s consuming me and I don’t know what to do.”
Conor took you by the hand, leading you over to his laptop and keyboard in the corner.
He sat at the keyboard, then lifted his hands and began to play one of your favorite songs, I Am by JoJo. But he changed the words around, “You are, you are, you are, you are worthy of love. I’ll tell you, you are, you are, you are, you are strong enough. I know it feels like, you’re not anything at all. But you are, you are, you are, you are beautiful.”
When he finished, you were crying again. This time it was happy tears. Conor came over and sat with you at the foot of the bed, pressing multiple kisses to your lips.
“I know how hard it is to shake the dark cloud, but I want you to know how tough you are. This may be a part of you, it sure as hell doesn’t define you. I’m always going to be here. Through the happy songs and the sad ones. I’m not going anywhere. I love you (Y/N).” he wiped away the tears from your cheeks.
“I love you too.” you felt a slight smile across your face.
Conor pulled you back into his arms. You were safe. The dark cloud may still be there, but you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Because you were strong and most definitely not alone.