|Tom Kaulitz|

Months ago, my girlfriend fell into a deep depression. Since then, I've been more attentive to her; although I had always been observant of her daily life, now I was even more so. When I arrived at her house, I went to her room with her mother's permission, opening the door to find her staring at the ceiling in silence. Her room was a mess, with nutrition bar wrappers and water bottles scattered across the floor; on her nightstand, there were many papers with writings, and on others, tear stains. Whenever I came to visit her, I took charge of caring for her, whether it was feeding her, bathing her, cleaning, or doing anything she couldn't do on her own. It hurts me to see her like this, it hurts not to be in class with her, nor to be able to go to the park as often as before, but that didn't mean I would leave her. I could never do that.

— Good morning, beautiful. Do you want to take a bath?...

I asked as I sat on the bed beside her, gently stroking her cheek, offering her my support in the heavy atmosphere that filled the room.