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Back The Infinite Noise Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

“Because you’re my friend,” he states, and my breath hitches at the intensity of his gaze, “and I want to tell you things. I need to tell you things because it’s not fair that I know what you’re feeling all the time and wasn’t even telling you about it.”

“I’m sorry, Caleb.” I shake my head. “I’m having a hard time believing this.”

“I know,” he says, “but it’s true. And there’s a little part of you that knows that. I know you’re nervous and scared right now, but you’ve also got that tiny little glimmer of confidence. You trust me.”

“Yeah, I do,” I concede, “but this is really next-level weird.”

“You don’t have to be mean about it.” He pouts.

“No, sorry,” I blurt, “I’m not trying to be insensitive, I just—This is a lot, Caleb. If you really can feel all of my feelings…”

“I can,” he asserts. “Like, right now you’re nervous and scared and all that, but you trust me. But also there’s that little pool of, like, sadness, I guess? I don’t really know how to describe it, it’s so big sometimes. Like when I came over last month—it was really big then. Like a massive wave that turned into a storm or something. And it’s weird that I know that stuff because you haven’t told me and I have a feeling it’s kind of a big deal, so I felt bad not telling you I knew.”

I’m starting to get dizzy despite the fact that I’m sitting down. Caleb is looking at me as he says this and it’s like having my chest wrenched open and my soul read. He knows that I have depression. He doesn’t seem to know exactly what it is—or he doesn’t want to say—but he knows. According to him, he’s felt it.

“I—” I start.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he interrupts, sounding panicked. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything. I’m just—I’m sorry that you feel that way. I know how hard it is.”

“Because you feel that way when I do?” I ask, heart sinking at what I think the answer might be.

“Well, yeah, sort of,” he says, “but it’s not like you’re making me sad or anything, it wears off when I’m not around you. And I still feel my own feelings, you know? Wait … why are you … relieved?”

Caleb is squinting, his head tilted like he’s trying to listen to something far away.